


I'm Okay

by ChelleyPam



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Minor Violence, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 22:44:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelleyPam/pseuds/ChelleyPam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Upping the rating just to be safe) Things went wrong with the rescue attempt, resulting in Charlie getting separated from Miles and the others, and falling into enemy hands.  Unfortunately, she catches the wrong person's attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> nothing belongs to me. My imagination just gets away from me sometimes so I take characters out to play with. It's like paper dolls, only without the mess.

“Pick me!”

Monroe's eyes turned from Rachel to the children. Charlotte had placed herself between her brother and Strausser's gun. No fear. All daring. Her mother pleading and screaming not ten feet from her and the girl was practically daring Strausser to pull that trigger. 

Bass told himself to remain calm. He called off Strausser once Rachel swore she'd do as he asked. He told the guards to take hold of the Matheson children. No, not children. Charlotte was at least, what, twenty? Maybe even as old as twenty-one by now. She was born before the blackout and he recalled the photos Miles had gotten from his brother. Danny was still in his late teens, but Charlotte was a grown woman.

A grown woman who was ten times the beauty her mother had been at the height of her days and who had all of Mile's brashness, guts and gall. She'd actually been irritated with her mother when Rachel caved rather than let them all die.

He left Rachel under guard to continue her work and walked with the guards as they removed Danny and Charlie. One of the cell doors was opened and Danny was shoved inside, but Bass moved up to take Charlie by the upper arm before they could put her in there with them. “Shut the door.” 

He pulled Charlie with him against her protests that she wanted to stay with Danny. He could feel the taught definition of her muscles under the jacket she wore. She was soft to the touch, but sinew corded just below her skin. And still he told himself to keep his breath steady. Hopefully his men knew better than to look at him below the belt line. He felt he was going to burst through the well woven fabric at any moment. 

There was an empty cell about three doors and across from the boy's. Monroe opened the door, pulled Charlie inside with him and barked an order for the guards to stay outside. The metal door slammed with an ominous clang.

** From the Outside**

Danny was calling out Charlie's name. The guards heard him from their positions outside the door. They could hear something else from inside the room where they stood guard.

“What are you doing? Stop it! Let me go!” The girl sounded angry, vicious. They'd been there when she stared down Strausser. There was no room for fear in the girl. Every man in that room had been more than a little turned on by that spitfire. She was like General Matheson, only with tits and a shapely body that came with a crossbow and precision shooting. They knew how many of their own she had taken down. She was becoming quite the topic of gossip among the men. Matheson's protege. Some reckoned she was his assassin, being carefully groomed for the day he came back to kill the General.

There was the sound of cloth tearing and skin meeting skin in a meaty punch. “Get away from me!” There was a sound like someone being slammed against the wall just to the left of the door. One guard looked to the other and mouthed 'You think she hit him or he hit her?' The other guard shrugged. 'Could go either way.'

Then there was a scream. It was the girl's scream, accompanied by a masculine sound that signaled relief and satisfaction of a target reached. 

The boy started screaming louder and the guards could no longer hear the girl cry, growl or whimper. There was only the rhythmic grunts the General made drifting through the bars of the door. Then she spoke, the effort to keep her voice steady and calm obvious.

“I'm okay, Danny. Everything's all right.” Her words were shaken somewhat by a steady cadence that was likely caused by Monroe's thrusts into her. “Breathe deep, Danny. You'll have an attack if you panic. Deep breaths.”

“Charlie?” There were tears in the boy's voice. He wasn't buying it. 

“I'm all right.” She managed to sound a bit more convincing that time, but the guards heard the uncomfortable grunt she tried to keep muffled. They heard the General's voice in sibilant whispers meant only for her. The words were too soft for them to hear. He might have been telling her to keep her brother in the dark or he might be telling her how tight she felt around his cock. 

It went on for a while. Monroe was known for his staying power. The women in town whispered and giggled about it. Being called to the General's bed always promised a lengthy and entertaining time. And that was when he was just going at a leisurely pace and not caught up in the throes of desire for a young woman who would gladly slit his throat if she were given half a chance. But it did come to an end eventually, punctuated by a roar of release and deep cleansing breaths afterward. 

It was a minute or two more before the door opened, the General still fastening his belt. “Take her to my quarters. Make sure she has a hot bath and fresh clothes.” The guards snapped to attention with a 'Yes, Sir'.

Monroe went to walk away then paused. “Oh, and no one touches her but me. Anyone who does will be executed.” He did walk away again, leaving the guards to gather the girl. She was pulling her pants back up, trying to hide the streaks of blood and semen staining her thighs before anyone else could see.

** The Monroe Residence **

Charlie scrubbed until she felt her skin would come off. Perhaps that's what she wanted to do, scrape off the skin and scrape Monroe off of her at the same time. 

_He had slammed her against the wall the moment the door shut. His breath was hot on her face. “That was the most fucking beautiful thing I've ever seen.” His lips had slammed down on hers, crushing and demanding. She'd managed to wrench her face away but that didn't stop him from trailing his mouth over her skin to her ear. “Your mother wishes she was half the woman you are.”_

She took up the pitcher by the tub and poured water over her hair again, rinsing out the suds. There was a sound from the other room and she jumped, hunching over to hide herself the best she could. 

“Charlotte?” The voice was strange, and female. She didn't say anything. A moment later a slender woman with skin the color of Nora's came in, a bundle in her arms. “I'm Maria. I brought you some new clothes. We used the ones you had on before to determine your size.” She approached Charlie like she was approaching a cornered predator. “I'll set these here.”

The clothing stack was put on the chair by the door and seemed somewhat lacking. Maria tried a smile. “Your underwear was in a state. We have some proper shops and seamstresses here so I was able to get you new ones. You'll find them more comfortable.” 

Charlie swallowed. “Thank you.”

Maria nodded, hesitating before she reached into one of the front pockets of her apron and pulled out a jar. “My husband... he's a guard at the prison and he told me...” She stopped, swallowing. “I got this from the apothecary. It should help with the discomfort... inside.” The woman licked her lips. “I'm sorry I can't do more.”

The discomfort inside. Charlotte wasn't ignorant. Maggie had told her what she needed to know. That despite what the aged paperback historical romance novels said, it wasn't the hymen breaking that hurt so much, it was an untried vaginal passageway having to stretch and learn to accommodate a man's girth. She had no idea how General Monroe compared to other men, but it had felt like he had been forcing one of the baseball bats their village had scrounged for games into her. It had been all she could do to stop screaming and try to assure her brother that she wasn't in any danger.

“I'll stoke the fire so we can dry your hair.” Maria shut the door softly, granting Charlie the privacy she needed to get out of the tub. She did so, wincing at the soreness. There were soft, thick towels, a luxury that couldn't be afforded in most towns. She dried herself off, trying to put what had happened in the prison out of her mind and focus on planning how she was going to get her mom and Danny out of here. Miles had to be close by, along with Nora. Aaron would be with them as well, and though some may discount him, the man had brains. Her father had respected him and told Charlie on more than one occasion there was more to Aaron than met the eye. She wasn't sure how the plan had gone wrong or how they got separated, but she knew Miles would come back for her.

She reached for the jar of ointment Maria had brought her and opened it. It smelled slightly floral, but mostly like mint of some sort. She tested it with one finger to see how solid it was and found it more of a gel-like texture. Scooping some out she took a breath and inserted her finger into her vagina. At first there were little sparks of pain from the abused tissues, but then there was a blissful numbness. She sighed in relief, letting herself lean back against the sturdy basin and bracing one foot against the tub so she could have better access and add more. Right now she could kiss Maria.

She cleaned her hand of the ointment and turned to the clothes on the chair. There was a pair of pretty lace panties and what looked like a simple muslin shift. There must be some towns growing flax within the republic. That was all Maria had brought her and it sent a little chill down her spine.

Taking a breath she opened the door and peered out. True to her word Maria was finishing up stoking the fire to a greater strength. On the bed was laid out a dress of of robin's egg blue and what looked like a matching corset. So the shift wasn't her only garment. “What's all this?”

Maria looked up. “The General wishes for you to join him for dinner this evening. There wasn't much time to get you a proper dress, but I managed. Fortunately one of the seamstresses in town is my sister-in-law. She was able to put a rush on taking this in a bit for you. It was a size too large.” She patted the seat by the fire. “Come. Let's see to your hair.”

Charlie sat. “I can do that myself.”

“I'm sure you can, but something tells me you've probably never had to lace yourself up into a corset before.” At Charlie's silence Maria gave a little smile.

Charlie licked her lips. “You... you said your husband is a guard. Did he... hear?” The brush in Maria's hand hesitated a second.

“He did. Normally he wouldn't speak of such things to me, but you seemed so young he thought you might have been... untried. And he knew I was assigned to see to your needs.”

Wonderful. “So I suppose it's all over town, now.”

“Likely not. Although I do hear that your capture is known. There's speculation if you'll be publicly executed for the soldiers you killed. You were starting to get the same reputation as General Matheson; something of a boogeyman man.”

She raised a brow at that. “Boogeyman? Me?”

“Mm-hmm. Don't fall asleep on watch or Matheson's Angel-of-Death might put an arrow through your heart.”

Charlie gave a snort. “'Angel-of-Death?' Seriously?”

“The things soldiers come up with.” Maria continued to brush and shake her hair in the heat of the fire in silence for a while before speaking again. “It will get better, Charlotte.”

“Charlie.” She didn't ask 'what' would get better.

“It will get better, Charlie. Don't fight him. I suspect you hate him and you'd rather slit his throat, but he has your family. If you... if you keep the General happy, it should go better for them. You might even get them released one day.”

“Yeah, well, I didn't figure the order to take me to his quarters was a good thing.” She swallowed. “Does... does he do this often?”

“Have women? All the time, but he's clean. He's meticulous and always takes care.”

“He didn't earlier.”

“And as a virgin you weren't likely to give him anything. However, he's never ordered an entire wardrobe for a woman to be secured and placed in his quarters. Usually it's just for a night. He's had his favorites, but he's never actually installed a woman in his rooms. I suspect it has something to do with you being a Matheson.”

“Lucky me.”

“A lot of women in this city would think so.” Maria finished with her hair. “I know you're not here of your own choice, but being here instead of the dungeons is a good sign for you.” She leaned down and whispered in Charlie's ear. “Men like to think they're in charge, but it's the wives and the mistresses who really run the world. Always has been. The blood rushes between their legs and they are malleable. Play things right, and you may be able to get what your family back.”

Charlie gave a bitter laugh. “Maybe with a sane man. This is General Monroe we're speaking about.”

Maria encircled her in a gentle hug. “You are the same flesh and blood as Miles Matheson, and he could keep General Monroe in line. You just need to figure out how he did so and use that same charm, mixed with what God gave you as a woman.” The maid stood up. “Now, let's get you dressed.”

** Dinner **

Bass had considered not changing his pants. After the flush of release had cleared he had noticed that some of Charlotte’s virginal blood had stained them. After a moment he figured that would be a crass and unneeded action and changed into a fresh uniform he kept in a closet near his office. He'd assigned Maria O'Brian to Charlie. The maid was generally liked and had a way with people. Pity she had more interest in having children than joining the Militia. She would have been a fantastic officer. 

The guards brought in Rachel and Daniel. Both had been allowed to wash and dress into something clean. Tom Neville and his family were already there. Neville had done an excellent job in securing Charlotte and his presence would serve to keep Daniel a little less stupid. He was still in those surly teen years. Bass honestly didn't know how parents kept from strangling their children after they hit about thirteen.

“Rachel, Daniel, please. Join us.” He gestured to a pair of chairs at the table. “I believe you both know Tom, and this is his wife, Julia, and his son, Jason.”

Rachel's eyes locked onto him like a laser. “Where's Charlie?”

“She'll be joining us soon.” As if on cue a set of doors opened and a vision in blue stepped through. Her hair had been washed, brushed until it shone like dark honey and pinned up with a pair of sapphire combs liberated from a museum when the Militia took over this city. A matching pendant hung from a golden chain to rest just above the swell of her breasts, pushed up and given definition by the blue and white lace corset. The dress fell down to her ankles and Maria had apparently went with a minimal heel, likely guessing the girl had no experience walking in dress shoes. “Ah, there you are.”

Rachel's mind put the pieces together instantly. “No. Bass, please no. Not her.” She made a move towards him but the guards stop her. “Not her!”

“It's a little late for that, Rachel.” He didn't even look her way as he sauntered over to Charlie. His voice was deep and smooth. “You looked exquisite, Charlotte.” He took one of her hands and kissed it, his lips lingering over the skin a moment longer than necessary.

It hit Rachel like a slap in the face. He'd already done it. The bastard had already touched her little girl. Her eyes searched Charlie for any obvious signed of bruising. Her shoulders were covered by cap sleeves, leaving the slender, well-muscled arms bare. No signs of darkening or cuts there. Her face was unmarred. Rachel watched in muted horror as Bass walked Charlie over to the table and pulled out a chair for her, the one next to his own.

“You said you were okay.” Danny's voice sounded stuck somewhere between hurt and angry.

“I am okay.” Charlie accepted the chair. “Everything is fine.”

“See, Rachel?” Bass smiled, his eyes glittering with something malevolent. “Everything is fine. Please, be seated.”

The guards gave the other two Mathesons a push towards the table. Danny claimed the chair nearest his sister, which put him the furthest from Tom Neville as he could manage, with Rachel taking the seat next to him. She watched Charlie reach out and take her brother's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Bass and the Nevilles also sat. Bass didn't miss the look between Charlotte and Jason Neville. He would have to do something about that boy. “Now, isn't this better? Rachel will be giving the Republic power so that we can bring some stability to the country and two families long parted are reunited again. I know Julia has been missing the both of you, Tom.”

“It is good to be home again, Sir.”

The food was served. The Mathesons' steaks were already cut up. Good move on Monroe's part. This close to him Charlie could have taken a steak knife and rammed it into his temple. He wasn't fooled by her apparent compliance. The girl was just trying to keep herself from doing anything that might earn a punishment for her mother or brother.

“Now all that's missing is Miles.” Sebastian took up his own knife and started to cut into his steak. “Then your family would be complete, Rachel.”

“We still wouldn't have Dad.” The words were spat like venom from Danny's mouth. Rachel tried to put a steadying hand on his wrist but he shook her off. “No, Mom! Why are we sitting here with the people who killed Dad?”

Bass looked a Rachel. “You still haven't told them the truth, Rache? Don't you think they have a right to know?”

Fear and pleading filled Rachel's eyes. “Don't, Bass.”

“I mean, Ben's gone, Rachel.” He put down his cutlery and leaned back in his chair, hands spread. “I was Mile's best friend. Not to mention the one he used to go out and get drunk with on leave. Of course he told me about it. He was feeling guilty about how much he enjoyed his part. You were his brother's wife, after all.”

Danny frowned and looked at his mother. “Mom, what's he talking about.”

Rachel seemed unable to speak, so Bass filled in the silence. “Well, you see, Danny, Charlie, Benjamin Matheson was your dad. He's the one who provided for you, chased the monsters out from under the bed and I'm certain he loved you both very much. We all grew up together, Ben, Miles and myself. Miles and I were a bit older than Ben so we only brought him along when your grandparents said we had to, but after we graduated and enlisted, Ben got pretty sick in high school. Very sick. He got better, but it did some damage and in the end Ben,” he made a gun of his thumb and forefinger and triggered it, “was shooting blanks.

“Now, Ben and Rachel fell in love, got married and wanted a family, but at that time they couldn't afford the kind of doctor needed to help. This was pre-blackout and I doubt either of you have a reference to the kind of money a Fertility Specialist cost those days. Couples went bankrupt trying to have a baby and the adoption lists could take years. So, one time when Miles and I were home on leave Ben asked Miles over. The three adults sat down and talked it over and eventually they reached an agreement.”

Bass looked over at Rachel. “How did that work, actually? Did Ben go catch a double feature while you and Miles did the deed or did he stay and watch?”

Rachel's hands slammed down on the table. “That's enough, Bass!”

He held up a single hand. “Okay, I'll agree that was crass. Even for me. My apologies.” His smile said he wasn't remorseful at all. “So, while Benjamin Matheson is on your birth certificates and was your parent in every way that mattered, your parents only had you with Mile's help.” Bass picked up his drink. “And Miles liked it. Hated himself for it, too. Thought he should have been able to just... disconnect from it and not enjoy sleeping with his brother's wife so much.”

“That's a lie! You're lying!” Danny made as though to get up but Charlie's hand shot out. Her fingers gripped his shoulder and squeezed as she pulled. He gave a yelp of pain and shot her a mutinous glare.

“Be quiet, Danny. You'll bring on an attack.”

Bass smirked at how easily Charlie brought her brother under control. He struggled with her a bit but she must have stared him down. A lifetime of Big Sister watching out for him. Once the boy was settled she turned her attention to Rachel. “Mother?” Calm. Collected. Controlled. Damn but she was something.

Rachel took a breath. “He's telling the truth, though no one but your father, Miles and myself were supposed to know about it.” She shot him a glare. He just shrugged. “We couldn't afford the doctors and this way you were still from the same family.”

Charlotte gave a small, slow nod. Filing away that bit of information inside her mind. Monroe watched the golden curls allowed to fall from her up-do slide against the graceful column of her neck as she did so. A surge of need shot through him and he stomped it down quickly. Later. He'd have her to himself all night, after all.

“And it worked,” he said instead. “You, Danny, are very much like Benjamin. This one, however,” he gestured with his fork to Charlie, “is Miles all over. I've got the field reports to prove it. What was it the men started calling her, Tom?”

“I believe they call her 'Matheson's Angel of Death', Sir.”

“That's right. Angel of Death. You've made a lot of women in this city into widows, Charlotte. You should keep that in mind, Daniel. Charlie here walked on foot from that little village of yours, facing bandits, raiders, engaging, fighting and evading my men just to get you back. That's love. That's loyalty. Even,” he picked up Charlie's arm and turned it over where the M was branded into the near perfect skin, “ran into one of my conscription teams at one point. Destroyed the facility and got the recruits out. But not before getting this. The recruiters must have thought you were really something special, Charlie.”

“Up until the point I killed them.” She delivered the line with a flippant tone and a tight little smile. He felt himself grinning back a wolf's grin. 

“Don't be mad at your parents, Daniel. They wanted you and Charlie and they asked Miles for help. It's not the first time in history such a thing has been done and it most likely will not be the last. Brothers helping brothers. Sisters helping sisters. It just means you had two fathers; the one that raised you and the one who actually made you. It's nothing to be worried or ashamed over.”

Rachel looked furious. Daniel looked confused. Bass looked at Charlie. She was hard to read. Perhaps thinking about how she was with Miles all those months and he never once said anything to her about being her biological father. Was she angry with him or did she understand why it was done?

“So, Tom, how are your men settling back in?”

Dinner conversation became rather bland after that. Julia was all about the Womens League and their work in keeping new uniforms and boots in production for the troops as well as keeping the schools operational. Jason had little to contribute and Rachel was not in a talking mood. 

** After Dinner **

The door shut after the guards had taken her mother and brother. The Neville's lingered a bit to say some more formal farewells. Jason tried to come closer to her to speak with her but Monroe was beside her and stared him down while running a proprietary hand over one of her arms. Finally, they left as well.

Charlie didn't know what to do with herself now that it was just Bass, herself and two guards at the doors. She watched as Monroe poured himself a drink.

“Do I need to have Jason Neville transferred to a front line somewhere?”

She blinked. “Jason? Why?”

“Because I don't like the way he looks at you.” Monroe turned around and leaned against the sideboard, drink in hand. “There's a spark there. Not one the pair of you ever acted on, but still one that I would rather not see blossom any further. So I ask again; do I need to have Jason Neville transferred or can I trust you to resist temptation?”

She looked at him as though he were crazy. “Trust me?” She was going to go on him but remembered to whom she was speaking. She closed her eyes, her fists clenching as she tried to tell herself to remain calm. Attacking General Sebastian Monroe with guards present was likely get her killed.

Monroe was watching her over the rim of his glass. No doubt if she had her crossbow or a gun he'd be dead by now. “What's on your mind, Charlie?”

“I assure you, General Monroe, you don't want to know what is on my mind.”

“Actually, I find that I do.” He took another swallow and set his glass down. “How about this: for the next fifteen minutes you can yell and rail at me without fear of reprisal. Say whatever you want and I will take no action against you or your family for it.”

Charlie arched a brow. “I’m supposed to believe that?”

“My solemn word. Fifteen minutes for you to speak freely or scream at me. Does not include physical attacks. No punishment.” He glanced at the wind up grandfather clock across from him. “Starting.... now.”

Charlie wanted to say something. She wanted to tell him what a fucked up individual he was but she didn't believe his deal.

Monroe spread his hands wide. “I don't offer this to everyone, Charlotte. I usually deal harshly with anyone who speaks to me without respect. I'd take me up on the offer if I were you.”

She unclenched and re-clenched her fists again. A deep breath in and out. Then another one in. “You want to know if _you_ can trust _me_ ][l? You want me to tell you if you should transfer Jason somewhere? Why? Afraid he might find someway to get in here so we can go at it like a pair of bunnies? Yeah, there were sparks, but I don't know if they'd ever amount to anything. The trip wasn't exactly conducive to romance.” 

Once she got started she didn't seem able to stop. She started moving towards him, slow steps that were almost without conscious thought. “You want to know if you can trust me? It was your men who killed my father! It was your men who abducted my brother! In case no one bothered to tell you, General Monroe, Danny's not exactly the perfect picture of health! The stress Neville and his goons put him through could have killed him before he ever reached here! There's no telling what you've been putting my mother through over the past decade!” She was almost within striking distance from him now. One punch. She was sure she could break his nose at least. 

Bass watched her as she approached. He doubted she realized how the angry flush that was coloring her cheeks and the tops of her breasts made her more alluring. Her lips had turned rosy and seemed to beckon him. He kept himself in check, though, trying to ignore the erection that was swiftly growing inside his trousers. 

“And need I remind you, General Monroe, that just this morning it was you who pulled me into an empty prison cell and raped me?” Her voice was softer now, shaking with anger. Gods but she was magnificent! “And you have the unmitigated gall to ask if _you_ can trust _me_.”

He was quicker than she, though she was very quick. His guards didn't see the punch coming but Bass did. He caught it in a hand much larger than her own and moved with cat-like swiftness had her arm twisted around behind her and his lips to her ear. “I specifically said no physical attacks.” He brushed his lips over the curve of her ear. “But I'm feeling generous so I'll give you that one.”

He gave a twirl and dumped her onto a nearby loveseat. “You bring up some valid points.” He waved the guards back from where they had moved forward when they had finally realized that there was a threat. “My men did kill Benjamin Matheson. That was a mistake. There orders were to bring him back alive so that he could help you mother. They then took your brother instead. That was an example of quick thinking on Major Neville's part. I do recall something Miles said pre-blackout about Rachel's pregnancy being at risk and she had to undergo an experimental surgery so that Danny would even survive to be born. I'm guessing from what you're saying now it wasn't entirely successful.”

“He has asthma. A major attack could kill him. Stress and fear can bring on attacks.”

“Yet he did survive. I don't doubt his condition, but it could also be that you baby him a little too much. We'll come back to that, later.” Monroe clasped his hands behind his back and paced a bit in front of her. “As for your mother, she was kept comfortably until only recently. I knew she was stalling and had to take more drastic measures. That was the reason for sending for you father in the first place. Now that she knows we have both you and Daniel she is more motivated to complete the amplifier for me.”

He turned and faced her. “Now, back to Daniel. What is it you think he needs?”

Her eyes had narrowed, assessing him. “Those cells aren't going to do him any favor, especially if that thing is overseeing him.”

“Thing?” Bass thought a moment. “You mean Strausser?”

“If Strausser is the name of the dick who had his gun in my face, then yeah, him.”

“You put yourself in his line of fire and challenged him to shoot you, but that's not pertinent to the conversation. I take it, then, you'd prefer that he be moved to better accommodations. We do have a building used to house visiting members of other regions that is kept almost as nicely as this one. It is possible he could be moved there, though he would still be under guard. What else?”

There was a trap in here somewhere. She knew there had to be. “He's too thin. He needs steady meals, and he needs medical attention. The beatings need to stop. Being a prisoner and knowing that mom and I are also here is going to be stressful enough.”

Monroe seemed to think it over in his head. “To summarize; you want Daniel moved from the holding cells to the guest quarters where he can be kept warm and comfortable. You want my men to stop physically injuring him, though there needs to be a caveat here that if he attacks them first they do have the right to defend themselves. Steady meals to keep up his strength. A visit with a physician as soon as possible to address any current injuries or concern and I'm guessing that regular physician visits after that to monitor his health would also be desirable?”

Where was the fucking trap? Any moment now he'd probably just laugh at her and tell her she was a fool. “Yes, it would be.”

Monroe nodded. “All this is within my power to grant. However, Charlotte, you should have learned by now that nothing comes for free. Everything has it's price and if I do this for you, you will have to give me something in return.”

And there it was. “I don't know where Miles is.”

“I know you don't. The reports from this morning indicate that he was seen, but that he got away. No matter, he'll come back if only for you. Now that you know how you and Daniel actually came to be, surely you realize Mile's isn't about to desert you. I just have to wait for him.”

“Then what do you want?”

The General stopped and looked at her with an appraising gaze that slid from the expertly fixed hair Maria had fastened for her, over the swell of her breasts above the lace of the corset and down her slender frame. Though she knew it was impossible, she felt like he could see through her clothes to her naked skin.

“Obedience.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Obedience. You do not fight me. You do not try to kill me. When I tell you to do something you do it. When there are formal gatherings you will dress appropriately and sit at my side just as you did tonight. Try your best to be charming to any guests, though that may take practice. I'm willing to work with you on that one.” He crouched down before her, his clear blue eyes meeting hers, freezing her into place. “You stay here, with me.” He did not need to elaborate on that part, he could tell it from how her eyes widened a bit. “No escape attempts, no attempts to kill any of my men, unless they try to kill you first then go right head.” He finished with a wave of his hand. “Now, is Daniel worth that to you?”

Her breathing had become shallow and uneven. He was too close. What he was asking was... to let him touch her willingly. To share his bed. To play hostess to his guests. “Let me up.” She pushes at him and he moves, letting her get up so she could have her turn to pace.

_For Danny. Could she do this for Danny?_ “Just you? No one else?”

“I'm not asking you to become a whore, Charlotte. Anyone else touches you and I'll have them executed.”

She swallowed, hard. “And Danny gets moved to your... the guest quarters. He gets taken care of.”

“That is the deal I'm offering.” Monroe looked at the clock again. “You still have five minutes in your grace period.”

Charlie closed her eyes tight. She took in a long trembling breath and released it slowly. _For Danny._ It was just sex. People had sex all the time. True, she'd rather sleep with a snake than Monroe, but he held all the cards. She'd already gone through so much for Danny, this was just another step to keep him safe. Just another, teensy step. 

She took another long breath, steeling her nerved. “Deal.”

She jumped a bit when Monroe clapped his hands together once before rubbing them together. “That's settled, then. Go see to it, just as was laid out.” 

What? Just then Charlie remembered that there had been guards inside the room. Guards who were now scurrying off to obey General Monroe's orders. She groaned and fell into an armchair, her face buried in her hands.

“What's wrong?”

“They just heard all of that.”

“Of course they did.”

She looked up at her new 'master'. “They just heard me promise to be your... bed warmer so my brother can get a better life. It's going to be all over the city by the end of the week!”

“The gossip chain is far more efficient than that. That's why I invited the Nevilles to dine with us. I didn't really need Tom or Jason, but Julia would make an excellent intelligence asset if she wasn't such a gossip herself. I'd give it... three days before everyone important not only knows you're actually the daughter of Miles Matheson but that you're also with me. Four at the most.”

She gaped at him. “You want this to get out?”

“Of course. Eventually it will get outside of the city to your father and that will only speed up his efforts to come back for you.”

“You son of a...”

“Your time is up. Time to be civil again.” She glared at him but pressed her lips closed. “Now, we do still have a deal and I do still need to address your final point.” He crouched down again. This part the guards didn't need to see. 

“You are right to be angry with me over this morning. My behavior was beyond base. I wasn't lying when I told you that you staring down that gun demanding your mother let all of you die just to wreck my plans was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. You were like a Valkyrie, come down from Valhalla to choose who would live and who would die.” He reached up and toyed with one of her curls. “Every man in that room who wasn't related to you probably wanted you right then. But it was my fault that I let myself forget I'm a man with more than twenty years of experience in how to make certain a woman enjoys herself and let myself be reduced to a callow youth just interested in getting his rocks off. I took something from you that can only be given once and gave you nothing in return, and for that I am sorry.”

He reached out and gently took her shoulders, urging her to stand with him. “It won't be like that again, Charlotte. I promise you. I know you hate me and that you would welcome the chance to kill me, but I also know that I can show you just how much pleasure you can have in the hands of someone who knows what he's doing.” He cupped her cheek, gentling her like he would a nervous horse who had never had to take a bit as he ran a calloused thumb over soft lips. “Something tells me that before this is over we'll get on like fire and houses.”


	2. Ginger and Penny Royal

Charlie was relieved that Monroe had gotten up before her. She had kept her eyes closed and forced herself not to react as she listened to him get cleaned up for the day and dress himself. It had been especially hard not to react when he had paused by her side of the bed and then bent down to place a lingering kiss on her neck before leaving. 

It was too cold not to have covers, but even the sheet was too much against her skin. Every nerve in her body felt hypersensitive.

_“It's okay, Charlotte. I'm not going to hurt you.” He took a thick woolen scarf that was part of the Militia's Winter uniform and wrapped it gently around her wrists before lifting them over her head to tie her to the bars of the headboard. “This is just to keep the squirming to a minimum.” She was a little fuzzy. He had coaxed her into sharing a drink with him, teased her about being a light weight when she said that one was enough and insisted she have at least half a glass more. She didn't think that she was drunk, but her head felt a bit dizzy and there was a pleasant warmth in her belly from the liquor._

“Charlie? Are you awake?” It was Maria. 

“Yes.” Her voice sounded scratchy. How many times had she screamed last night? The door opened and the maid came in, her eyes wary.

“How are you this morning?”

She had to think about that one. “I don't know.”

The maid shut the door behind her and set a tray with a covered silver dish and what looked like a glass of milk on a small table. “It is time to get up, Charlie. You need to eat. There is a lot of talk going around the officer's today. Something about a demonstration they hope will be ready, soon.” She pulled the sheet back and Charlie shivered. Maria froze only a second before lowering it carefully. “Are you hurt?”

“I... don't think so. I'm just... everything's shivery.”

The other woman let out a sigh of relief, closing her eyes in what might be a prayer. “You need a bath. The water will help. Come.”

Charlie made herself get up and walk to the bath. Indoor plumbing had been the easiest thing to set back up in larger cities. There had been some style of flush toilet or other long before electricity. A network of cisterns and boilers along with gravity and aqueducts allowed the more upscale houses of Philly to have working bathrooms with hot water. Maria started the water flowing into the claw foot tub and coaxed Charlie into it.

“Adjust the water as you need, Charlie. I'll get started on the room.”

Charlie reached over and turned the water as hot as she could bear. It felt like the warmth was burning back her over sensitized nerve endings, bringing relief.

_Rough, five o'clock shadow traced lightly against the skin along her spine. Monroe had worked his way up slowly from her ankles, taking his time to run his lips over every square inch of skin open to him. Calloused hands ran over her in long strokes. All the while, in the darkness, he kept whispering to her how beautiful she was._

_He told her she was perfect._

She grabbed the soap and a cloth and built up a lather while Maria cleaned the room. She heard the woman moving, cloth rustling as she changed the sheets. “Charlie?”

She looked over towards the door. “Yes?”

“Did he... use anything with you last night?”

“Like what?”

She heard a frustrated sigh and Maria came back inside kneeling down by the tub. “Do you know what a condom is?” She shook her head. “They've gone back to making them from sheep gut since the Blackout. They're sheaths that men wear over their penis. Did he wear anything like that last night?”

“No. Is that important?”

“It can be.” Maria sighed and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You take a nice long soak. I need to go run a quick errand.”

Charlie watched Maria go, then sank back down in the hot water, watching her skin go pink.

Maria make quick work of changing the bedding and dropped the soiled linens in the hamper just inside the washroom. She did not go back upstairs, but instead went through the washroom and through the outside door. The guards confirmed her as part of the house staff and let her go. She walked with quick, sure steps across the street and a block down until she came to the apothecary she usually frequented. The brass bell rang as she entered. She gave the elderly man who owned the shop a warm smile but headed towards the wife at the other counter.

“Maria. Did the ointment help?” 

“Yes, thank you for being so quick.” She pitched her voice lower. “I have a purchase for the capitol building. A discreet one.”

“What is needed?”

“Maiden's Aid.” 

The older woman nodded and turned away. Without the fancy labs and equipment, holistic and herbal remedies were back in vogue. Including some old remedies for unwanted problems that women had been using for years. The most popular one in Philly was 'Maiden's Aid', a tea made of ginger and penny royal mint. Ginger had long been used to try and prevent conception but would not affect an already conceived child. Penny royal, on the other hand, was known to bring about miscarriage. Many of the soldiers' wives used it when they wanted or needed a break between pregnancies. 

It wasn't actually illegal, per se, but the women in the city didn't care to clue any of the men in. Thus, when asked for, it was usually dispensed as just Ginger-Peppermint tea. 

The woman came back with the tin. “Morning and night. As strong as you can bear it.”

Maria took the tin with a smile of thanks. The cost would be billed to the capitol building and marked under the kitchen costs. No reason Monroe couldn't pay for his own birth control.

** Afternoon **

The bath had helped. Charlie felt more in control of herself if nothing else. Maria had brought back the tea and explained to her what it was and the importance of drinking it as prescribed. She could have cried she'd been so grateful. With everything that had gone on over the past few days she hadn't even considered the possible complications of agreeing to sleep with Monroe. 

Since this wasn't a 'formal dinner' she felt she had a right to wear pants. It had never occurred to her how vulnerable a skirt could make her before. It took more effort to wrestle a girl out of a pair of pants than to hike up a skirt. The pairs she had been provided were new and still stiff, but made her feel more secure. She picked out a shirt with the longest sleeves she could find and a jacket to ward off the chill. She was just lacing up her new boots when their was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

“President Monroe requests your presence in his study, Miss Matheson.”

Oh right, the presentation of her mother's amplifier. And the end of freedom to all. Couldn't miss that. “I'll be right there.”

Obedient. Be nice. Don't grab a gun and try to blow Monroe's brains out. Wait for Unc... Miles to make a plan. Miles would find a way to get them all out of this. 

And then she'd punch him in the nose for not telling her some rather important details about her family tree.

She made her way through the halls and stairways, getting turned around once, and eventually made it to the doors to Monroe's study. The guards opened the door for her without comment. Monroe looked up, a slow smile coming over his face when he saw her. “Planning on storming an enemy base today?”

“Never know.” Might blow yours up from the inside if I get a chance. 

“I've received confirmation that your mother is ready for a demonstration.” He came up to her and she forced herself not to flinch away when he slipped an arm around her waist and pressed a lingering kiss against her temple. “Let's go see what she has for us, shall we?”

Riding with President Monroe from his central headquarters to the facility where Rachel was working required a buggy drawn by four horses and a cadre of armed guards all on horseback. Fortunately he wasn't in a chatty mood. 

Maybe Rachel took her advice to heart? Maybe she rigged the amplifier to blow up or something. If she was really that super smart then she could do that, right?

The power plant came into view and Charlie tried to suppress a shudder. She didn't do a good job of it, apparently, because Monroe responded by wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side.

They finally came to a stop and they got out. Monroe played the gentleman as he always did, offering his hand to help her down. Charlie kept her expression neutral and offered just as much social niceties as she had to. Hey, she came from a backwater town. How was she expected to have fancy manners and such. If he wanted a sophisticated mistress then Monroe should have bullied some other woman into his bed.

They made their way to her mother's work room. Rachael looked haggard and worn. She probably hadn't slept since that disaster of a dinner. She looked up and pushed a limp lank of hair out of her eyes. “All right, Bass. Here's your damn amplifier.”

“You'll understand that I require proof that it works.”

“Of course. The amulet?” It was handed over and clicked into place. Once activated Charlie watched as things around the room started to come to light. A boom box on a nearby table started playing music with undertones and nuances that Charlie didn't recognize, and her heart dropped. Mom had actually done it.

“Range?”

“This one will get you five miles. I'll need the other amulets if you want more.”

“Already searching for them, Rachel.” Monroe turned and smiled. “See how much easier things go when you cooperate?” He ran a hand over Charlotte's hair as he ordered the amplifier to be taken out and installed. The guards and everyone moved from the room to another floor where they could see the helicopters and vehicles the Republic had been patiently collecting. It took a few minutes for the two men with the amplifiers to come out below and get to one of the machines. Charlie watched, not remembering what this looked like before and a little fascinated as the rotors started to spin. 

Monroe gave a crow of triumph and grabbed Charlie for a quick, hard kiss. The other pilots started up their birds as well, feeding off the amplifier's radius as they lifted into the air. Just like that, Monroe finally let go of her shoulder and she was able to take a step back, edging towards her mother.

Rachel looked miserable, almost in pain. “It's okay, Mom. He didn't really give you much of a choice.”

“He did if I was as strong as you. You were willing to let all three of us die if it meant keeping this from happening.” She shook her head. “I don't have that kind of strength. I couldn't lose you and Danny. Not then.”

Charlie hugged her mother. “I know. I forgive you..”

Rachael hugged her back, tightly. “I love you, Charlie. I know we always seemed to favor Danny, but it wasn't because we loved him more. He just took more attention.”

“I got that a long time ago.” The sound of the helicopter blades was near deafening, but mother and daughter were so close they could whisper in one another ears. “I got over it.”

Rachel ran a hand down Charlie's hair. “You've grown so beautiful. I'm wish I had been there to see that.”

“Things happened. The world kinda went to shit there for a while.”

“Yeah. Yeah I suppose it did.” There was a haunted look in Rachael's eyes as she leaned forward and kissed Charlie on the forehead. “I love you so much, Sweetheart. And I'm so sorry.”

She was about to ask which thing she was sorry about this time, but she heard Monroe yell out “STOP HER!” the same time Rachel gave her a hard shove backwards, sending her over the railing of the overlook. Charlie barely had time to register what happened before a large, beefy hand grasped one of her wrists. She jerked to a stop, something in her left shoulder popping with a sharp pain that wrung a surprised cry from her. She heard yelling and chaos above her and didn't notice the second hand reaching down. 

“Miss Matheson, try to reach for my hand.” She looked up. It was one of the guards who had come with them. Another one had caught her left arm, this one was asking for her right. She tried to swing enough to grab him but that sent another shock of pain through her shoulder. 

“Son of a bitch!” Her right arm dropped again. That hurt!

“Breathe through it, Charlotte.” Monroe's voice was drifting down to her. She looked up and saw that he had taken the second guard's place and was now the one reaching out for her. “Come on! You're not some whiny new recruit! You're a fucking Matheson! Now grit your teeth and swing up!”

Oh, she'd swing up all right. She'd swing up and kick his damn teeth in. Still, she did as she was told, bracing herself before making another attempt. Monroe's hand clamped over her wrist with bruising strength and he and the guard pulled her up and back onto the observation platform. They lay her down gently and she saw that her mother had been pinned face first up against the wall.

“Don't hurt her!” She tried to get up but she was pushed back down and ordered to remain still. “Please! Monroe! Don't hurt her!”

Monroe made a gesture with his head and the guards drug Rachel away, Charlie calling out for her the entire time.

** Holding Cells **

Rachel was bound to a cold metal chair. She didn't know how much time had passed but she had heard the helicopters return. The test flight must have gone well, then. She felt like a traitor to the entire Human race, giving that to Monroe. She should have listened to Charlie.

The door swung open with a slam and Monroe stalked in. “What. The fuck. Was that?”

“I was trying to take care of my daughter.”

A strong hand gripped her hair and yanked it back. “You tried to kill your daughter! Why!?”

Rachael glared at him. “Because I'd rather see her dead than knowing that she has to put up with you. I won't let you destroy her.”

He looked at her with anger. “Her shoulder was dislocated. It's been popped back into place and she's been given something to help her sleep through the discomfort. I didn't do that to her. You did.”

Rachel's jaw clenched tight. She would not apologize for trying to save Charlie from this man. 

“I need you for the amplifiers, Rachael, so I can't kill you. That and Charlotte would never forgive me.” He leaned in closer and whispered into her ear. “As for the rest; I spent a good portion of last night touching and tasting every gorgeous inch of her. She came three times before I even got inside her. So don't worry about Charlotte. I'm taking very good care of your little girl.”

He let her hair go with a yank, ignoring the daggers she shot at his back as he walked out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a prompt for you guys: I wanna see Conscript!Charlie. She keeps bouncing around in my head, but I'm having trouble settling on a single idea. There's so much you can do with her. Is Miles still with Monroe, or has he bolted? Does she give her real name when asked or is she clever enough to give a fake on and hide from her uncle right within his own militia? Does Ben journey to Chicago to ask his brother for help in getting her back? Does she keep her head down and try to blend in with the several thousand other soldiers or does she decide to make the best of the situation and excel as a soldier? Does she inadvertently become a general's favorite plaything (and I realize I didn't say which general) whenever their paths cross and what consequences does that bring about? The possibilities are near endless! Someone get to writing, right now!

“Mmph!”

“Relax, Charlotte. I move the arm, not you.” Bass waited until she relaxed and again started moving her shoulder joint in a slow rotation. “Funny thing about shoulder injuries; if you don't use them you lose them. We have to use some motion in the arm or your shoulder will freeze up with adhesions and you'll end up losing some of your use of the arm.”

Monroe, in an apparent effort to show what a considerate and wonderful person he truly was, had decided that his time with her was better spent acting the part of her physical therapist. She supposed that as someone who had seen as many injuries and as much combat as he had probably had experience in the subject.

“What did you do with my mom?”

“I ordered her to be isolated for a while. It will give her time to think about why it's not socially acceptable to try and throw your daughter off of a building.”

“Did you hurt her?”

“No.”

She winced as he moved her arm through another set of passive motions. “Did you tell someone else to hurt her?”

“No.” He released her arm, laying it gently against her side and reached over for a bottle of liniment the physician had given her. He rubbed the strong smelling stuff onto his hands and then began to work her injured shoulder with it. “You do remember she tried to kill you.”

“I don't think she likes the idea of me being here very much.”

“That's a poor excuse for trying to kill your own child, Charlotte.” He finished with the liniment and got up from the bed. Charlie pulled the sheet higher to cover more skin. She heard him washing his hands in the sink before coming back. She felt the bed give under his weight again.

“What do you want out of this, Monroe?”

“Sebastian.” A heated hand ran over the skin of her neck. “Or Bass. Lovers shouldn't be so formal, Charlie.” 

She closed her eyes and told herself to remain calm. She would not flinch. She would not strike out.   
She tried to ignore the slow, gentle kisses he pressed to the sensitive skin of her neck. “What do you want out of this? Do you think this will work? Do you really think Miles will come for me?”

“I know he will, but that didn't cross my mind until after.”

“After what?”

“After I knew I had to have you.” He scraped his teeth lightly over the top of her uninjured shoulder and she shivered. “I know I started things badly with you, Charlie, but I will make that up to you.”

“Why me? I mean, didn't you know me when I was in pigtails? Doesn't that make this seem a little sick to you?” He sighed and pulled away from her , but he didn't leave the bed. Charlie turned her head the other way to look at him. “You say that Miles was like family to you, and I'm his family. Doesn't that make keeping me here like this feel the least bit... incestuous?”

He looked at her with those clear blue eyes she could never quite read. “Is this your way of telling me you're not in the mood?” She narrowed her eyes at him a bit and he returned the look with a roll of his eyes. “Miles and I are brothers in life. In war. In pain. We've shared a lot of dumb stunts, a lot of bad times and even several of the same women. But you're no blood to me, Charlie, and little girls grow up to be beautiful women who deserve to be cherished and loved.”

She paused at that 'loved', but reminded herself that Monroe was not someone she could trust. “If you and Miles are so close, why did he leave you? What did you do to chase him away?”

He closed his eyes as if in real pain. “I don't know. I was asleep and felt him come into my room. I asked him if he was all right. I was concerned, you see. We had been having a drink, celebrating his birthday, when a rebel set off a bomb that nearly killed him. I thought maybe something was wrong and I was going to call for someone to get the doctor.” His eyes opened and he looked at her. “Then he pulled that gun on me. Didn't say a word, just looked down the barrel right at my eyes. But he couldn't pull the trigger. He left after that. Didn't even given me a fucking explanation.”

“Maybe you should try thinking back about everything that happened leading up to that day. You might find the answer.”

“You think I haven't? I honestly can't see what I might have done wrong. All I ever cared about was watching his back. The whole idea to organize and fight was his in the first place. We set out after the Blackout to look for your family, but the farther we went the more we saw. People falling on one another like wolves. Families slaughtered. Miles, your uncle couldn't take it any longer. There was no one coming to help. It was too much for him.”

“So you're blaming the start of the entire Republic on Miles? You're the one in charge.”

“You have met your uncle, right? He's not exactly overflowing with people skills. He's a soldier. A killer. And he's good and teaching other people to kill. He let me deal with anything requiring charm or tact.” Bass let his fingers trail gently over her skin. “Miles was well on his way to making you his masterpiece, whether intentional or not.”

“Then why couldn't I kick your ass?”

He chuckled. It was a warm, low sound that made a shiver dance up along her spine. “Because I'm not foolish enough to leave you a weapon.”

“What did you do with my mother?”

Monroe sighed and rolled over onto his back. “You are like a dog with a bone, refusing to let go. Very well, then. Shall we barter for your mother's continued safety and well being?”

“I've already struck that deal with you. Remember? I behave myself and play the pliant little slut.”

“Do not refer yourself as such!” The word were biting and sharp. He moved his hand softly over her back as though to smooth away their sting. “You are not my slut, nor are you my whore. There is no dishonor in the bargain you struck with me for Danny's well being. But that bargain was only for Danny, it was not for your mother.”

“I felt that was implied.”

“You were wrong.”

Anger flashed through her, hot and sharp. “Then what more do you want of me. You asked for my obedience, I have given it. I can't give you intelligence on Miles or the rebels. I have nothing else to offer.”

“That is where you are wrong, Charlotte.” He gathered up her hair and ran her fingers through the tawny strands with an air of possessiveness. “There is something you have yet to surrender.”

“And what is that?”

“Yourself.” He pressed a kiss between her shoulders before getting up. “If you want me to ignore your mother's attempt to kill you, then I'm going to require a more permanent arrangement. Get cleaned up. Put on something pretty. That light blue dress Julia Neville had made for you would be perfect. Come downstairs when you're ready.”

He dressed and left the room. Charlie curled up in on herself. What was he playing at? It had been a week since the presentation. A week since her mother had tried to throw her off the side of the building. She hadn't been allowed to see her, but Monroe claimed she hadn't been harmed. She'd heard the helicopters going out. She knew people were dying because of what her mother had done for Monroe. How much did he think the Mathesons had left to give him? He was going to crush the other republics. He was going to bring everything under his despotic regime. What could she have that he felt he needed so much he would hold the knife to her mother's throat to get it?

She made herself get up, the soreness in her shoulder a little less now. If Monroe and his doctors could be believed, she would soon be able to start exercising the arm on her own, building up strength. For now, however, the orders were for 'passive motion', meaning she had to lay there while Monroe moved the arm for her. He didn't let anyone else see to the therapy.

_Be strong. Stay strong for Danny. Stay strong for Mom._

She cleaned herself as he requested, taking her own sweet time about it. Let him wait. There were very few avenues of rebellion left to her, but this was one she could still claim. She drug it out as long as she felt she could without risking an appearance by Monroe or by a guard. 

The blue dress. She knew which one he meant. Not the one with the corset that made her curves stand out and her breasts swell and plump until they threatened to spill over the top. Not the one he had made her wear when he so smugly let her mother know that he'd touched her. Julia hadn't overseen that one. He meant the lighter one. It was something he could get into on her own and fell over her skin in polished cotton and a sheer overlay with delicate flowers embroidered into it. It seemed to take the worry and the stress of the road here and erase it, leaving her looking fresh and virginal and innocent. All things she no longer was. It wasn't the only dress designed to do this. She had several. Maybe Monroe had a thing for younger girls. Maybe he just liked to remind her how fragile she was compared to him.

She slipped on the matching shoes, swallowing hard. She lingered as long as she dared, she'd gotten very good at judging just how far she could push Monroe's patience.

She steeled herself, taking a deep, cleansing breath before exiting the room. The guard posted outside clicked to attention and followed her down the hallway, down the ornate staircase and to Monroe's office. Her eyes found Major Neville, a fire of hatred igniting anew in her belly as she looked at him. Her hand itched to snatch the firearm from the guard's hand and put a hole through the man's skull. 

There was another man there. Charlie recognized him as the officer they'd taken prisoner when they had been at the rebel base. Miles had called him Jeremy. He was the one who had clued them all in on just who Miles was. He was the man Miles had turned himself into in exchange for their lives and the man from whom she and Nora had taken Miles back.

Monroe was standing next to another officer she didn't recognize. He was slender and kind of face. She looked over his rank, he was a lieutenant, but on his color, across from the Monroe “M” was a cross. “Charlotte, this is Chaplain McKinney. He is being very understanding about getting roused from his sleep to be with us this evening.”

Because there was only one thing Charlotte had left that Monroe was still unable to lay full claim to; herself.

** The Following Morning **

Rachel didn't react when the door to her holding cell had been opened. Strausser came in, his steps familiar to her. “Mrs. Matheson, you need to get up now. You're being moved to better accommodations.”

She didn't budge. The guards forced her to her feet and pulled her out of the holding cell. How long had she been in there? There had been no light to mark the passage of time. Food had been shoved through a slot at the base of the door. She hadn't seen Danny. The guards wouldn't tell her what was being done to Charlie. Maybe her children were dead. Monroe got what he wanted, after all, what more use could her sweet babies be to him.

Monroe had what he wanted. Why couldn't he just let her die in peace?

The sunlight blinded her as they moved her from the holding cells and out a rear door. She was shoved unceremoniously into the back of a wagon, her hands cuffed to the inside rail before it took off with a jolt. She watched the occasional tree pass by, then more trees, then buildings. They were moving her back into the city.

The wagon came to a stop and she was hauled back out and marched inside she same residence where Monroe had kept her until he'd grown tired of her refusal to assist him. So she was going back to 'guest' status. But why?

Strausser unlocked the door to her gilded cage and the soldiers walked her in. She took a quick perusal of the room and noted that many of the objects she could have previously used as makeshift weapons had been removed, though they were still going to allow her paper and pencils for writing. She rubbed at her wrists as she took it all in.

Strausser walked up to her, that ever present smirk at his lips. “Welcome home, Mrs. Matheson. Here, I thought you might like to get caught up on the current events.” He dropped something on the table and walked away. She heard the lock click before she went over to see what he had left her. 

It was a copy of what passed for a newspaper in Philadelphia. The front page was taken up by a story about President Monroe and his recent nuptials. The concept of Bass settling down with one woman seemed foreign to her, but she had known him for years. 

Rachel picked up the paper in shaking hands and scanned the text. A sob racked her when she got to the bride's name. “No. No, no, no, no, no.” Her legs gave out and she fell to the floor, the paper becoming blotchy with her tears, but the name still visible.

Charlotte Christina Matheson Monroe. 

He'd made certain to keep the 'Matheson' in there, like a beacon to Miles. Or perhaps just to rub it in his face. 

She'd done it for her. Rachel knew that in her gut. Her daughter had done this to get her out of that cell. To get her mother to someplace more comfortable and where she'd be better cared for. Rachel was the mother! She was the one who was supposed to be making sacrifices for her children! But here was her baby girl, her precious angel bartering with the only thing she had to her name; herself. 

Charlotte Christina Matheson Monroe. The new First Lady of the Monroe Republic. Bass' property to do with as he saw fit.

Rachel curled herself into a ball, her head pressing against the aged wood floors and cried.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conscript!Charlie prompt is still being requested. Someone make me cry, I dare ya.

“Monroe has all but crushed us with those damn choppers.”

Miles took a swig of whatever swill the rebels were passing off as whiskey. His mind was back in Philadelphia, and not on Starkey's rantings. They'd been so close, and all they'd managed in the end was getting Charlie captured. His brain kept going over everything he could. There had to be a way to get back in there to her out.

_“Ben, you can't be serious.”_

_“Miles, I know this is awkward, but we just can't afford to go through the doctors and no one is going to clear the two of us for an adoption with no more than we have to offer right now. Even if they did, we're talking a waiting list years long.”_

_“I'm not entirely comfortable with this.”_

_“Miles, I know.” He met his brother's eyes, not bothering to hide the guilt. “I know about you and Rachel, about the affair.”_

_“We were stupid.”_

_“I forgive you. And right now I'm your brother, asking for your help.”_

_“Does Rachel know about this?”_

_“She does. She's the one who recommended you. Felt it would be better if it was someone we knew. Someone we could trust not to try and lay claim to the baby later.”_

Where was Charlie now? Did Bass give her to Strausser? Was he slicing into her with those knives of his? Was he letting her be passed around amongst his officers? Miles screwed his eyes shut, trying to block out the images of greedy hands pawing at Charlie's tanned skin, trying not to think of her being forced to her knees, cruel hands fisted in her sun-kissed hair. He couldn't sleep because he kept seeing Charlotte, bleeding and broken.

“Miles?” He looked up to find Nora offering him a plate of food. “You need to eat. You're not going to be any use to anyone if you let yourself get weak.” He took the plate mechanically, resting it in his lap and just staring at it. Nora sat down beside him. “Charlie's strong. She'll be okay.”

“I still can't figure out how I lost her. Why did I even let her come along? She was too young, too green. I should have had your priest friend lock her in a room and sit on her, gone after Danny myself.”

“That wouldn't have worked. She would have found a way out of the room, knocked everyone unconscious and then beat the shit out of you once she caught up to us.”

A short, snort of mirthless laughter escaped him. “Probably.” He swallowed. “She's mine, Nora. Her and Danny both.”

“What?”

“Ben had a wife, wanted kids and couldn't father them. I was alone, no desire to marry, career soldier, but I could make kids. He was my brother. He asked me for help. I gave it to him.”

Nora was staring at him in confusion. “You fathered Charlie and her brother.”

“They wanted someone they could trust not to fight for custody later. We drew the lines clear. Ben was their dad. I was the uncle.” He gave another short laugh. “I let my brother and his wife use me for a stud service. But after Ben died, the more time I spent with Charlie... I didn't want that line to blur but...”

“It started fading. She stopped being your niece and started being your daughter.”

“I couldn't even bring myself to tell her. I should have at least told her.” He took a longer pull, swallowing the alcohol. “Bass knows. We were drinking. I got the message that Rachel was in the hospital to have Danny, way too soon. I told him everything.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Bass has my daughter and I don't have a fucking clue what he's doing with her.”

Nora didn't try to say anything comforting. She likely didn't know what she could say. She sat there by Miles' side, a warm hand on his back to let him know she was there if he needed her. Both of them heard the commotion when the guards brought someone in.

“Sir, we found him skulking around. He's branded Militia.” A young man was kicked to his knees in front of Starkey. In the firelight Miles could see the shortly crops, black hair and the too tight shirt.

“I need to see General Matheson.” The voice was the same, too. Miles got to his feet, the alcohol haze he'd been developing evaporating in an instant.

“I know him.”

Starkey glared at him. “Who is he?”

“Tom Neville's boy. One of Monroe's spies.” Miles glared down at Jason. “What are you doing here?”

The boy looked around the crowd. “You want to grab Danny and Rachel, now's the time to do it. They've both been moved from high security to the Diplomatic Housing and Monroe's left the city for the house in Boston.”

“What about Charlie?”

Pain crossed Jason's eyes. “Back pocket.” Miles leaned forward and pulled out a folded copy of the Philly paper. He read the front page, his eyes hardly believing it.

“He married her?” 

“Late in the night. Had my father go and fetch the chaplain. Next morning he packed Charlotte up for the house in Boston. Strausser moved Rachel after they were gone.”

Starkey pounced. “The house in Boston isn't nearly as secure at the one in Philly. We'd have a real shot at Monroe there.”

“No.” Miles shook his head. “We take Charlotte and miss Monroe, Danny and Rachel are as good as dead. We get Danny and Rachel first, Monroe loses his leash on Charlie.”

“Since when do you call the shots around here, Matheson?”

“You heard the boy! Strausser didn't move Rachel until after Monroe had Charlie secured. He's using Danny and Rachel to control her, just like he used Charlie and Danny to force Rachel to give him power. Without Rachel Matheson, Monroe wouldn't have those damn choppers. We get her back and she just might be able to help us find a way to stop them.”

“Matheson? Another relation of yours?”

“My brother's widow.” Miles shook his head. Time to come clean. “Ben called me seconds before the power went out to warn me about it. We always expected that if he didn't have something to do with it, he at least knew what happened. Rachel was project lead on whatever they'd been working on. Monroe and I looked for Ben, but when we found them, Rachel turned herself in, not him. She was stronger. Ben would have cracked; Rachel never did. At least, not until Monroe got the right leverage on her.”

Starkey studied him. “The kids. He got his hands on her children and used them to make her give him power.”

“And if we get her away from him, maybe she can tell us how to get the power away from him, or maybe she evens the playing field by giving us our own.”

** Boston, MA; Monroe Republic **

Charlie woke wrapped up in warm blankets and silken sheets. Monroe had a taste for the finer things in life and he surrounded himself with luxury. She moved gingerly, her muscles sore and tender from the past few days. 

__

_He barely gave her time to study the outside of the house before he swept her up, bridal style, and carried her in. He seemed determined to play the happy bridegroom to the letter. A rider had gone on ahead to alert the house of their coming and their supper had been waiting for them. Honey glazed Cornish game hen halves with roasted new potatoes and green beans with slivers of almonds. The wine was sweet and cool on her tongue and the dessert had been a sweet, thick cream custard with a tart cranberry reduction to keep it from being too cloying._

_She had tried to stretch the meal out as long as possible, knowing what was coming next, but there was only so much time you could linger over food. Once the dishes were carried away he had held out his hand and escorted her up the long staircase to the bedroom they would share. It still hadn't fully sunken in, what she had done. Her 'I do' echoed over and over inside her mind like something out of a dream brought on by a crack to the skull._

_Heated hands on her made reality slam into her. He enjoyed undressing her himself, he always did. He liked to let his hands linger as they slid fabric down her skin, pressing lips to newly bared flesh. “My beautiful Charlotte. You grow more perfect by the day.”_

They hadn't left the room after that, not for at least three days. Meals were brought to them. He had taken her tea from her. To her relief, he wasn't angry about it, though he knew what it was. In his words, it was all right for a mistress to take steps from conceiving, but a wife was supposed to have children with her husband. He told her she could have it again once they had a baby, as having children too often could compromise her health. She was young. She could afford a two or three year rest between births.

Three days where Monroe had taught her that he knew her body better than she did. Three days where he reduced her to panting and pleading for release before he'd give it to her. Her only compensation was when she drew blood, biting into his shoulder or gouging him with her nails. He only laughed, enjoying it when he could reduce her to something wild and untamed. 

He wasn't in the room now, but remembering made that tightening feeling start down low. She muffled a cry into her pillow, pressing her legs together and willing it away. She would not let herself become addicted to him. Her will power was the last thing she had, and she would not let him take her to the point where she sought him out for sex. She may have to let him use her body when he wanted, but she was not going to let herself crave his. 

She reached out and pulled the cord by the bed. It only took a few moments for one of the maids to come in. “Yes, Ma'am.”

“I'd like a bath, please.”

“Right away. You slept through breakfast, Ma'am. Shall I have the kitchens send up something light while we fill the tub?”

“Yes, thank you.” She sat up fully, throwing her legs over the side of the bed while clutching the sheet to her front for some semblance of modesty.

Married. She was married to a man she wasn't entirely certain wasn't the devil incarnate. Charlie had never been one of those girls who fantasized about the man she would marry one day. She couldn't even remember a time when she thought of marrying at all. Her whole life had been looking after Danny, then learning how to hunt so that the people in their village had food on the table. Everything had been about survival. Not that she hadn't been without interested parties. There had been some young men who had tried to approach her, but she hadn't been interested. She knew when she'd reached the age where she was in danger because that was when Maggie had started hiding her when the Militia came to collect the taxes. And Monroe was right about there having been some kind of spark between her and Jason, though that had been tainted by the times he lied to her. 

She hadn't fully understood what he had meant when she said the one thing she had left to give was herself, not until she saw the Chaplain. Maggie had told her that before the Blackout women were gaining equality in most things, especially in the more modernized countries. There had still been some places where women were property. Now, after the Blackout, just about all women were property again. If you were fortunate you found a partner in life who treated you like an equal and a helpmate.

If you were unlucky, you found yourself married to a dictator who was probably using you mainly to piss off the man who fathered you.

She was getting better at reading him. She thought she knew what he wanted next. He wanted her to initiate intimacy. He wanted her to come to him. He would see it as a victory; getting so deeply under her skin that she wanted his touch. So, in truth, that was still something she had that he hadn't yet taken from her; her self control.

Several maids came in, most carrying buckets of steaming water while another one brought her a silver tray with a light meal. A poached egg, some toast with butter and jam and fresh milk. It wouldn't be long until lunch, so this would her over until then. She ate while they filled up the tub, then gave back the dishes so she could get clean.

Her last two baths had been with Monroe. The last three days had been with Monroe. Their 'honeymoon', at least that was what he was calling this trip. She didn't know what pulled him away from bed today, but she was grateful for the privacy. She sank into the hot water while the maids stripped and changed the bedding. 

She must have dozed off in the hot water, because she didn't hear Monroe come into the room. It was a gentle hand caressing her hair that jolted her awake. “It's just me. I was checking to see if you were awake or if you'd lain back down.”

She sat up, mostly to cover herself from his sight. “I'm all right.”

“Good. Sorry to have kept away from you all morning, but I've been working on something of a wedding present. Come downstairs when you've dressed. I'll send in one of the maids to help you with your hair. We have a guest.”

He leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss against her neck. “You are so beautiful, Charlotte.” The words were whispered against her skin, making her shiver. She waited until he left the room before picking up the sponge and wiping the place his lips had touched her clean. He was always saying things like that to her. 'You are so beautiful.' 'You are perfect.' 'You look like an angel.' Compliments were never in short supply around Sebastian Monroe. 

She rinsed off and got out of the tub. True to his word, one of the maids was there to help her dress and do her hair. The concept of having a need for someone to help her dress was foreign to her, but apparently there were a lot of things that could be done with hair as long as hers was that she had no practice in at all. He said they had company, but didn't say what kind. The maid had pulled out one of those dresses that made her look innocent and sweet, so apparently she was to be the ingenue today.

When she was ready, she made her way down the stairs. Monroe was speaking with a man who was setting up a tripod with one of the old style cameras that were the only option after the Blackout. Sebastian had put on his uniform, crisply pressed. It made him look powerful and sinister, the opposite of herself. 

He seemed to feel her eyes on him and looked up. His smile told her that he was pleased with her appearance. “Charlotte, you are exquisite as always.” He stepped to the foot of the stairs, arms open to accept her. It was part of being obedient as well as being a blushing bride. She was expected to put on a proper show. She stepped into his embrace and returned the brief but warm kiss. “This is Mr. Shawl. I asked him here to take our portrait. I'm told that the news of our wedding is causing quite the stir. The Republic is curious to know more about their new First Lady.”

“We all are.” Mr. Shawl was adjusting the angle of a leather chair. “Traditional, I think, Sir. If you would please be seated. Mrs. Monroe, if you could come over here, stand behind him.” The photographer placed her where he felt the light would be the most flattering, moving her hands so that they folded one over the other resting atop Monroe's shoulder. Sebastian put the finishing touch by reaching up with one of his gloved hands and wrapping his fingers around hers.

Shawl took three photos of them that way, to give better chances of one coming out perfect. Monroe thought some shots of Charlotte alone were called for. There were more of three shots of her. She had various poses, some head on, some in profile. She felt Monroe's eyes on her the entire time, catching his pleased half-smile every now and again.

“I will get these developed and bring them back for your review, Sir.”

“Thank you. And thank you for coming out on such short notice.”

“It was my honor, Sir. And may I wish you both a long and happy life together.” The photographer kissed Charlie's hand before being escorted out by the guards.

“What are you going to do with them? The photos, I mean.” Charlie watched him walk over to the wet bar and pour two glasses of whiskey. 

“They will be circulated to the papers, of course. But the primary reason I wanted them was to release them with that.” He nodded to his desk. Charlie walked over, curiosity getting the better of her. There was something written on paper, a draft of a proclamation in the works. She picked it up and began reading.

“You're decreasing the taxes by fifteen percent?”

“For one year, in celebration of our union. We've run the numbers and it's easily affordable. The village where you grew up will be taken off the tax rolls all together. It's the least I can do considering that they helped to keep you healthy and safe all those years.”

“And you needed photographs for that?” She accepted the glass he offered and let him take the draft back. 

“People should know who to thank. They aren't going to believe it coming from me alone, but you?” He reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear before tracing his fingers along her jaw. “One look at this face and they'll believe you've got me wrapped around your finger. I'm probably going to develop the reputation of being a besotted, love-sick man who will do anything to keep his pretty young wife happy.” He smiled as he downed his whiskey in one swallow. “Politics can be a rather interesting game. Thanks to your mother, I will gut the resistance, but at the same time you are going to help me correct the problems within the Republic that made people want to rebel in the first place.”

He refilled his glass, his expression calculating as he watched the amber liquid flow. “You aren't just my jewel, Charlotte. I'm going to make you the jewel of the entire Republic. The people will love you, adore you. They will realized just how very special you are, just as I have.”


	5. Chapter 5

Miles didn't protest as they tied and cuffed Jason to a chair. Hell, he never really liked the kid anyway. Starkey stood back, letting Miles handle the questions.

“So, start at the beginning. Don't leave anything out.”

Jason flicked his eyes around the room, lingering a second in surprise that Pittman had been included in this. “We got invited to Monroe's house for dinner, my whole family. He had Rachel and Danny there, too. And Charlie.” His throat constricted at the memory. “It wasn't hard to tell... you just knew he'd hurt her. Couldn't see the marks, but he was practically gloating. He told them the truth, her and Danny.”

“What truth?”

“That their yours. That your brother couldn't have kids so he and Rachel asked you to do it for him.” Both Jason and Miles ignored any sounds of surprise from those who didn't already know. “Wrapped it up nice, too. Made sure to remind them that your brother was their Dad in every other way that counted, that they just happened to have two of them.”

“And why would Monroe bother with that?”

Jason gave a snort. “My mother was there. I love her, but she's the biggest gossip in Philly. By now every officer's wife knows, which means their husbands know and it's spreading through the whole Militia that Charlie's the daughter of General Matheson. I knew something was up the next day, when Danny was moved.”

“Why would that make you think something was up?”

“Because Monroe was still breathing. Charlie wasn't fighting. Charlie. She hates him, and you taught her well. If she couldn't fight him she should at least be trying to escape. Then the rumor started flying around that Monroe worked out some kind of deal that he'd make sure Danny was taken care of if she behaved herself.”

“What about Rachel?”

Jason looked uncomfortable about what was coming next. “I didn't see it, but Dad was at the presentation when she finished the amplifier. He said that when everyone was distracted by the helicopter lifting off, Rachel tried to kill her.”

“What?!” It came from Miles, Nora and Aaron all at the same time.

“Rachel pushed Charlie over the side of the observation platform. One of the guards caught her in time. Dad said that even after they pulled her back up she was begging Monroe not to hurt her mom. He had Rachel thrown in a cell somewhere and no one had the nerve to talk about her. Charlotte got a dislocated shoulder out of it. Monroe was furious. Everyone avoided him. Then the day after that happened,” he nodded to the newspaper announcing the marriage, “Rachel got moved from whatever hole he had her in and back into her old quarters in the diplomatic housing after Monroe had left the city with Charlotte.”

“So it's like we thought; He's using her family to keep her in line.” Nora looked like she wanted to punch something. “Miles, why go through all this? Why Charlie? Is he just doing it to get to you?”

“No, he wouldn't have to go this far for that. He'd know just having her pretty much guarantees I'll come for her. He needs her for something else.” Miles looked over at Starkey. “We need to send out some feelers. See what kind of news is coming into the towns. If he made the marriage public, he may have made some other things public, too. This feels like a political move to me.”

“You may be on to something there, but how much can you trust this kid to be telling the truth?”

Miles looked at Jason. Glowered was a better description. “Because as much as I'd like to bash his little boy band face in, when it comes to Charlie you're looking at Monroe's biggest competition.”

** Boston, MA ** 

“What are doing?”

Charlie looked up from her paper. She hated how he could walk in without her hearing him. “Writing a letter to Mom. Let her know I'm okay.” She fiddled with her pen. “I can do that, can't I?”

Monroe came closer to the desk. “I see no reason why not. It's probably a good idea. I can't have her thinking that I'm keeping you chained to our bed, although that idea has merit.” He came up behind her, hands resting on her shoulders before sliding down the length of her arms. “I can send it out with the runner tomorrow with the orders for the officers.” He nuzzled her hair away from her neck. “Do you plan to be much longer?”

Charlie told herself not to shiver, but she felt gooseflesh raise on her skin in the wake of his heated breath, felt her nipples tighten in anticipation. “Not too much longer. I was about to finish up. I wrote one for Danny, too.”

“Danny, I was wanting to talk to you about him.”

A fist gripped her heart and squeezed. “What about him? Is he all right?”

“He's fine.” Monroe stood up and walked around the desk and sprawled into a chair opposite her. “My doctors tell me he is fully recovered from any rough treatment he may have suffered at the hands of my men. They also are of the opinion that some regular exercise would do his condition a great deal of good.”

She tried not to let her hand shake as she finished her letter. “That makes sense. He went with me when I was out hunting. He was healthier when he was doing all that walking.”

“It was recommended that he be put with the officer candidates for their training.”

That made her look up. “You want to put him in the Militia?”

“No, the doctors agree his asthma is bad enough he shouldn't be a soldier, but they do think the physical training would be good for him. He will be monitored closely. And he may benefit from the educational classes as well. There is a lot of study that goes into training an good officer.”

Charlie studiously kept her eyes on her letter. “But he wouldn't be Militia. No brand. No sending him out in the field.”

“My solemn word. He will need a job one day, perhaps in the officers academy. He's a bright kid. Who knows; we might make a teacher out of him.”

Charlie was careful not to let the last few lines of her letter show any signs of shaking. It wouldn't do to worry her mother any more than she probably already was. She signed it with love and set the pen down. 

“Finished?”

“I just need the ink to dry before I can fold it.”

“You can do that later. I thought you might like some fresh air after being cooped up inside all this time. The weather is nice and the horses could use some exercise anyway. I had the kitchens fix us a picnic lunch and told the stable hands to saddle up a couple of mounts for us. Why don't you run up and change and we'll be on our way.”

She pushed away from the desk and left the room. Bass took the opportunity to get up and see what she had written. It was a simple letter, assuring her mother that she was okay and that he was not hurting her. Pleas that Rachel not do anything that might set the guards off on either Danny or herself. A daughter's request that her mother be careful and not get herself killed now that they had found one another again.

Bass set the letter down, satisfied. His eyes flicked up to the stairs where Charlotte had vanished to change. He doubted that she had any idea that this future, one where she was by his side, was the only one she ever really had. Marrying for love had been a relatively new idea and a luxury afforded only to those countries where education and money were plentiful. In this post-Blackout world, marriage had gone back too more rational reasons. Could he provide for her? Could he keep a roof over her head and food on the table? Was she strong and healthy? Did the women in her family have a successful history of surviving childbirth?

A man in his position married for other reasons. Their marriages were political alliances or to solidify peace treaties, like the kings of old. This union, his and Charlotte's, had even been discussed in passing once when Miles still stood at his side. They had considered themselves brothers for so long, but there had never been a real connection there of family. Bass had once pointed out to him that when they finally did find wherever Ben was hiding with the children, Miles had every right to take them from him. Perhaps, when she was old enough, they could finally merge the two bloodlines together. It had been a shadowy thought at the time, because the last image either of them had of Charlotte was from a photo Miles had shown him the last time he saw her. She'd only been four at the time, all baby fat and blue eyes that seemed a bit too large for her tiny head.

But when he had seen her again, the strong, brave young woman who had walked across the entirety of the republic to get back her brother, that four-year-old Charlie had vanished from his mind. She was fearless, unafraid of him and his men and willing to sacrifice the rest of the Matheson clan if it meant he would be denied the power he craved. This was no wilting flower or calculating courtesan; this was a warrior deserving of a crown. Had Miles still been his general, still been his loyal second, he would have given Charlotte to him with his blessings. You didn't waste someone like her on a boy like Jason Neville. Charlotte was made for power.

And she was made for him. Her slender, well toned body was responsive whether she wanted it to be or not. All the other women in his life had just been practice, honing the skills needed to bring out the sensuality in this one creature. He treasured each gasping moan, loved the feel of her nails digging into his skin or the pain of her sharp teeth sinking into his flesh. When she came her body gripped him like a vice, trying to wring everything from him and he gave it willingly. Perhaps he had already taken root inside her, they had made love enough times for it to have happened if she was on the right side of her cycle. If not yet, soon. And he wouldn't lose her like he had Shelly and their baby. Charlotte would have the benefit of best physicians the Republic had to offer. She would survive. Their child would survive. He didn't care if it was a son or a daughter, they had years ahead of them for both. He just wanted to see Charlotte healthy and glowing, her stomach rounding out with their baby. Until then he would wrap himself in her slender arms and those long legs that seemed to go on forever, and he would continue telling her just how perfect and beautiful she was until she hungered for him as much as he hungered for her.

He had made his way to the base of the stairs by the time she came back down. He had to admit to himself he rather preferred her in pants. They showcased those beautiful legs he'd just been fantasizing about and hugged the exquisite curve of her hips. He smiled and held out his hand to her. There was a field in bloom with wildflowers on the route he had planned for them. It would be a perfect spot for their lunch. And since he could account for each and every sexual encounter Charlotte had had thus far, he knew she had yet to make love outside. Perhaps this would be the perfect time to stretch her experience a bit more.

** Foxtrot Base **

“Fifteen percent over the next year, in honor of the new First Lady.” Starkey had smoothed out the proclamation. “Is that her?” He was pointing at the photo of Bass and Charlie.

Miles' gut twisted. “That's her.”

Nora placed a hand on his shoulder. “We can at least be certain he's not going to hurt her. He wouldn't be making her this public if he was going to kill her. We know she's safe.”

“You're not getting it, Nora. He's using her against the resistance.” Miles looked from his daughter's face to the woman next to him. “When the resistance first came to our attention, several of us tried to point out that the best way to cut the legs out from under it was to figure out what had them up in arms. He wouldn't listen to us. Now... now he is. No one's going to believe that Sebastian Monroe has magically become the benevolent dictator, but now he has Charlotte.”

Starkey got it. “She's young, sweet and has the face of an angel. He can attach any reforms or changes to her. Destroy any support we have with the people. And if we strike out at her, we become the villains.” He looked at Miles. “You were right; it's political. He's killing off our numbers while at the same time taking steps to make it harder to replace them. We've got to get her away from him.”

“Not without grabbing Danny and Rachel first. She won't come with us if there's a chance that Monroe can take it out on her family. That's assuming that it's not too late already.”

“Meaning what?”

Miles sighed. “I've known the man since we were kids. We were Marines together before the blackout. If there's one thing he knows better than killing, it's women. Bass knows exactly how to wrap them around his little finger, make them desperate to stay with him. Charlie's bull shit detector is better than most, and the fact that he killed Ben, took off with Danny and has been holding her mother prisoner all work in our favor, but that doesn't mean she's completely immune. Best case scenario is that she's still behaving herself because he's got Danny and Rachel to hold over her head, and that's the assumption we have to proceed under.”

“Why not just send a squad to Boston and take her?”

“What do you think I was doing with her the trip to Philly? We were going up against Monroe. She needed to know how to fight. You send your boys to try and grab her before we can assure her that her family is safe and she'll cut through them like a hot knife through butter. I'm pretty much the only one here that could go against her.”

“She's that good?”

Miles gave a mirthless laugh. “Bass may be good at killing, but I'm the one who trained the Militia. I trained Charlie. She's better than good.”


	6. Chapter 6

_Bass touched her with just enough pressure to set her nerve endings on fire. Everywhere his lips trailed over her skin felt scorching. Their clothes burned away wherever they touched, allowing skin to meet skin. She was hungry, aching and he wasn't moving quickly enough to suit her. Her hips rocked trying to tempt him inside, to fill the emptiness there, to make her whole again._

“Charlotte?” She jerked awake at the touch of his hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Her heart was hammering. She licked her lips. “I'm fine. Just a dream.”

“You called my name in your sleep.”

Had she? Crap. “Just a dream.”

She could feel his eyes on her, studying her. There was just enough light from the hearth that she could tell where he was looking. Charlie tried to order her body back under control, but she shivered when his hand moved from her shoulder, over the bone of her clavicle and down between her breasts.

“Just a dream? What were you dreaming about?”

“It was nothing.” He hand kept moving downward. The muscles in her stomach jerked as he brushed over them. She felt him continue downward, threading into the curls further down and hearing a soft, pleased sound when he felt the dampness there. 

“Nothing?” He trailed his fingers down until he could slip two of them inside her, pressing upwards as his thumb teased the bundle of nerves just above. Charlotte gasped, her back arching off the bed. “It doesn't feel like nothing.” His voice was a whisper trailing over her cheek. “Are you ashamed, Charlotte? There's no need to be. It's perfectly acceptable for a woman to think such things of her husband. I rather like that you do.”

He moved his hand out and then back in, teasing the delicate tissues inside. She whimpered, trying to tell herself that she didn't crave this. That she didn't need this.

Bass' lips hovered at her ear. “There was a time, long ago, when men would have traveled months to lays chests of gold and jewels at the feet of your family in hopes they would approve a marriage to them. A woman of your beauty, your strength and courage, they would have believed you the child of a god. It is my very great honor to be the one who worships you, Charlotte. Your body is an altar and I am you servant. Tell me what you want of me, my dearest one.”

His words struck a chord in her she had been denying since that first night he had taken his time and had brought her over the crest again and again. “Inside. Please, Bass, I need you inside me.”

He moved over her, the muscles in his arms supporting him as he probed her entrance. He teased her, just barely touching, making her roll her hips up in an attempt to bring the head of his cock inside. Only then did he move forward, the girth of him filling and stretching her, sheathing himself like glove inside her heat.

Charlotte couldn't stop the moan that escaped her. Her pelvis tilted, urging him deeper. A calloused hand ran down her leg and coaxed it to come up and over him, her other leg following suit until she had him trapped in their embrace. 

“Do you remember yesterday, in the field?” He voice was hoarse with need. “The wildflowers were tangled in your hair. You reminded me of the stories of Demeter, the goddess of of the earth and plenty. My own personal goddess, renewing the earth with our passion.” He started to move within her in long, deliberate strokes. “That is who you are to me; my own, personal goddess. Let me show you how a believer treats the one he holds above all others.”

His hands reached under her, encouraging her back to bow so that her breasts were offered up to his mouth. He laved each one with thorough attention as he continued to thrust inside her. Her hands reached up of their own accord, tangling into the curls of his hair and cradling him to her body as it betrayed her to undulate beneath him. His name fell from her lips again as she longed for him to bring her back to that precipice where all thought and reason faded and her consciousness would shatter into a million bright stars. 

And he brought her over that point, but his body continued to move within her, keeping her from fully coming back down until he drover her over it again, and then a third time until he thrust into her again and remained. She felt him inside her, twitching and jerking as he emptied himself into her, deep inside her body as he always did.. Goddess she may be, but her worshiper sought to plant himself within her. He wanted a child of her, maybe more than one. New life that would bind her even more tightly to his side, chain her there to him so that she could never leave. 

** Next Morning **

Charlotte slept in again. Bass had wanted another go after he'd rested up a bit and she hadn't been able to summon the strength to deny him. She called again for a bath and the maids brought up the water as well as a light brunch to hold her over until actual lunch. She didn't feel the need to scrub herself as thoroughly as when this had all began. Perhaps she was becoming too used to being at Monroe's beck and call when it came to his carnal urges. Or perhaps she was beginning too enjoy them too much. Last night had been a new level in their dealings, with him being able to finally call her on the desires her body was starting to feel for him. 

_That is who you are to me; my own, personal goddess. Let me show you how a believer treats the one he holds above all others._

She fought off a shiver of desire as she dressed. 'Goddess' was a new compliment in his repertoire. God help her, but she was beginning to doubt this was all about pissing off Miles. She was beginning to wonder if this really did have something to do with her, if even in a small part. Did Monroe really want her for herself? She shoved that thought away without mercy. The idea that a man of Monroe's power and ease of access to women would choose some nobody from an obscure farming village was too tempting. It was like something out of one of those cheesy historical romance novels Maggie used to keep around; the high born lord falling for the peasant girl. Such things did not happen.

_But you aren't just some 'peasant girl'. Your father started the Militia with Monroe, a knight to a king._

She shoved that thought away as well. She would remain strong. She would not fall for Monroe's trap. It was there, a subtle spiderweb ready to catch her. If she let herself become tangled, she would lose something of herself.

She made her way downstairs. Maybe a book from the library would help distract her. Fortunately there were two entrances to the one here, so she didn't have to go through the study where Bass was most likely to be. She let herself in through the door from the hallway leading off from the kitchens.

The scent of leather bindings and paper seemed almost a relief from the bedroom where Monroe's scent lingered even after the maids changed the sheets and opened the windows for fresh air. Sometimes she thought she could smell him on her skin and in her hair even after she scrubbed herself down with the luxury soaps he had provided for her. It was like he was becoming embedded in her skin, taking her over from the outside in in an attempt to merge them into the same person. That thought scared her. She banished it and began to look over the shelves of books for something that might let her lose herself to a world far from this one.

She jumped as she heard a fist strike hard against something from the other side of the opposite door, where Monroe's study was. “How did this happen?!” She couldn't hear the answer other than a muffled voice. She crept towards the other door, curious. “The Neville boy? You mean to tell me the guards found it believable that one lieutenant who isn't even old enough to shave yet was able to bring in six rebel prisoners on his own? Did no one think to offer back up?”

“They did, Sir. The prisoners' bonds were apparently unsecured. They overpowered the guards and took their weapons.”

“And managed to walk out of Philly with our two most valuable prisoners.” Monroe's voice was tight with anger. Charlie's heart sped up. Two prisoners? Jason working with the Rebels? Had Miles managed to get Mom and Danny out?

“I want the patrols around this estate tripled. This is where Miles will be coming next. And I want the security at the house in Philly increased. Lock it down tight. I'll be returning with Charlotte there as soon as arrangements can be made. Miles will not be taking my wife from me. Is that clear!”

There was a chorus of 'yes, Sirs' and she heard the other men leave. She was rooted to the spot for a dangerously long moment, long enough to hear it when Monroe must have swept everything from his desk in anger. She jumped at that and quickly looked the shelves. There was a copy of A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court staring her in the face. She grabbed it and hurried quickly out of the library. She made it to the conservatory with its many windows and lush plants, sitting down in one of the chairs and tucking her feet under her as she opened the book and began to read. That was how Monroe found her an hour later. She looked up when he came into the room, his eyes guarded and hands behind his back.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing.” He summoned a smile that seemed to have a touch of relief about it. Had he feared she would just magically disappear now that his blackmail material had been liberated? “Although I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut our plans to stay here a bit short. Apparently I've been away from Philadelphia longer than those I left behind can manage with any sense of competence.”

She closed her book, telling herself to show nothing that might indicate she had overheard. “That sounds... messy.”

“Potentially. I won't know how badly until we get home.” His smile morphed back into the one that he usually wore when he was pleased to see her. It was relaxed and content, far different from the one raw, hungry one he wore when they were in bed together or anytime his libido raised it's head. “The travel arrangements should be ready by tomorrow night, so we'll leave in the morning the next day.” He crouched down, his hands resting on her knees. “I'm sorry about this. I had hoped to give us at least another week or two to ourselves. But it seems I'm going to have to start sharing you with the rest of the Republic a bit sooner than I wanted.”

“I'm no expert in weddings and honeymoons, but we've been here almost three weeks already. Isn't that already longer than normal?”

“Perhaps, but there was so much I wanted us to do together.”

“That we haven't already done?”

His expression took on a look of wickedness. “There is this one thing that I've been thinking of. I came across it when studying the histories regarding nomadic war bands. We still have enough time to give it a go.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Give what a go?”

“Sex on horseback.” 

** Dawn, two days later, Boston, MA **

The carriage had been built using the leather bench seats from a pre-Blackout car, and the leather had been lovingly maintained every since. It was far more comfortable than riding on horseback all the way back to Philly, and honestly, Charlotte didn't think she would ever be able to look at a horse the same way. She still couldn't believe she had let him talk her into that.

Bass and one of the guards traveling with them put up the half top meant to keep the sun from baking them during the ride. That done, her husband got into the carriage with her. He noted that she had brought the book with her and cocked a brow in her direction. “Doubt I'm able to keep up an interesting conversation?”

“No, I just thought you might be busy or want to get some rest. We are heading out early.”

“Sorry to have disturbed your rest this morning. I know you've become quite fond of sleeping in.” He reached over and pulled her closer to his side. “I gladly offer my services as a pillow and make the trip to Philly as relaxing as possible.”

He was warm, making the blanket he draped over her almost needless, and she was still sleepy. He scared her, he was a sociopath steeped in blood, but she also knew that she was probably the only person here he would not hurt. He wanted her happy and content, even if he had yet to realize that he couldn't get that by holding those she loved hostage against her. She held the kernel of knowledge that the Rebels had most likely gotten Danny and Mom out in her heart, carefully guarded. Without them, she needed only to bide her time until he relaxed his guard enough she could slip away. 

That, however, was not going to be today. He was in hyper vigilance mode, so there was nothing for her to do now other than take up his offer. She shifted on the seat until she could lean against him more comfortably and closed her eyes. The rocking of the carriage once it started out helped to lull her back to sleep.

Gunshots woke her up, coupled with Bass ordering her to get down and pushing her into the floor of the carriage. He crouched over her, his side arm drawn. Charlotte was not unfamiliar with combat any longer, not since she had paired up with Miles to find Danny. She might have seen too much of it, if the truth were to be told. She peered through the open sides of the carriage to see the attackers pouring from the woods.

Bass kept the higher tech weapons for himself, and his men were well armed. The problem was that the people attacking them were just as well armed, or at least some of them were. There was no uniform for the resistance members, but the soldiers with them were clearly from something better organized and supplied. She caught sight of the patch on the arm of one who had reached the carriage only to be cut down by Monroe. Georgia.

“Baker! Get her out of here!”

Jeremy was on the other side of the carriage before she could register the order. He was still astride his horse as he bent down to grip Charlie by the ankles and pull her towards him. “Time to go, Ma'am.” He was finally able to reach her arm and pull her up in front of him on the horse. Before Charlotte could even get a better look of the battle to see if Miles was there, Jeremy had taken off, carrying her away from the scene.

She squinted her eyes against the wind holding onto the pommel of the saddle as Baker kept the horse at top speed. He couldn't possibly think to run the animal this hard all the way to Philadelphia. It would kill her before she got them there.

It turned out not to be a concern. The ground about fifteen feet ahead of them exploded with concussive violence. The horse spooked, rearing up and throwing both of them off. Charlie felt the air get knocked from her lungs. The scent of cordite and freshly turned earth filled her nose as she pushed through the pain of refilling them. Jeremy got to his feet first, but the horse had been scared off.

And a rich, familiar voice filled her ears. “Jeremy! How've you been?”

“Miles.” She heard Baker draw steel as she rolled herself where she could see what was going on. Nora didn't surprise her, someone had to set the charges. Miles pulled his own swords from their scabbard. Maybe it was because she was still on the ground, still trying to recover from the fall, but he looked ten feet tall at that moment.

“I'm here for my daughter. Move away from her and I might not have to kill you.”

“You're behind on the news, Pops. She's Charlotte Monroe, now. And I've got orders to get her home to Philly so she can be tucked in all nice and warm for when the hubby gets in.”

“Yeah, you see, Bass forgot a very important step. You're supposed to get the blessing of the bride's father first. He didn't ask me, and I sure as hell am not giving it. So, I'm not going to recognize the marriage. Get the hell away from my daughter.”

Jeremy tried striking first, but Miles was ready for him. The worked against one another, but as they did so, Miles got Jeremy away from her. Nora dashed in, her hands running over her. “Anything broken?”

“No. Just winded.” She felt a cramping pain low in her abdomen. “And I think I bruised something when the horse threw us.”

“Sorry about that, but Miles figured Monroe would have a backup plan in case we tried anything en route to Philadelphia. Come on, we need to get you up. Jason's got our ride in the tree line.”

Charlie got her feet under her and let Nora lead her away. True to her word, Jason was there with four horses. He helped Charlie up onto one of the horses while Nora got up on her own. “I'll get Charlie back to camp. You stay here and back up Miles.” Jason nodded and headed off back where Miles and Jeremy were fighting.

She hurt, and she expected she would be black and blue in a multitude of places the next day. Still, she kept her eyes on Nora, following her as they put more and more space between her and Monroe.

It took them over an hour to reach the camp, hidden in a hollow with a steady water supply from a nearby stream. It looked like an actual camp, with proper tents and order. There were a lot of Georgian soldiers, probably three times the number of the rebels. 

Nora dismounted and looked back at Charlie. She paused as she saw the girl bent over, barely clinging to her saddle. “Charlie?” There was a weak 'I'm okay' that sounded anything but convincing. Nora ran to her horse, signaling for one of the nearby soldiers to help.

“Charlie, we got you. Let go of the saddle.” She and the soldier pulled her down. Nora saw the blood on the saddle, a lot of it. She immediately looked for any wounds or injuries she may have missed before, but the blood was soaking out from the crotch of Charlie's pants. “Let's get her to the med tent.”

They carried her in, Nora calling out for the doctor President Foster had sent with the men. He was young, but competent, and he knew his way around a rifle if he had to defend his patients. Not a bad combination of skills to have. 

He looked at the young woman being carried in and frowned. “This is Charlotte Monroe?”

“Matheson,” Nora barked out of habit. She was of the same mind as Miles as far as the whole wedding thing went. “She got thrown from a horse during the attack. Hit pretty hard.”

The doctor took a quick visual assessment. “Get her pants off.” He moved up to Charlie's side, touching her forehead to open her eyes so he could peer into them. “Charlotte, can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle was?”

She cringed as Nora tried to remove the pants as gently as possible. “Don't know. Haven't been that regular since the Militia took Danny.”

Nora filled in the gaps. “The Militia murdered her father, kidnapped her brother. She walked from her village to Chicago to find Miles and then was with Miles as he helped her try to get Danny back.”

The doctor nodded. “So under a high amount of stress, likely unreliable meals paired with an abundance of physical activity if she was engaged in any altercations. All things that would screw with a young woman's normal cycle. We see it in female soldiers when they're under similar conditions.” He gentle prodded her now bared abdomen. “Have you been sexually active?”

Charlie's laugh was bitter. “Yeah, there's been a lot of that. He had no problems there.”

Nora set the pants aside, giving the doctor a hard stare. “Do you really need to put her through that right now?”

“Yes, if I'm going to narrow down the diagnosis.” He lifted up her shirt, carefully probing the rest of her abdomen. “When did these relations begin?”

Nora saw Charlie's hand reaching towards her as though by its own volition. She moved up on the side of the bed opposite from the doctor and threaded her fingers through the younger woman's.. 

“First time I met him. I'm... not sure what set him off, but apparently my standing up to them turned him on. After Mom agreed to give him what he wanted he and the guards were taking Danny and me back to the holding cell, only he had Danny put back in his cell and drug me to one a few doors down. Slammed me into the wall.” She swallowed, squeezing Nora's hand tighter. “I told him to stop, tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. I hadn't been with anyone else and it hurt. When he was done, he ordered the guards to take me to his house in the city. Later... Danny has asthma. Monroe told me he would get Danny into better quarters, get him medical care if I... the word he used was 'obedience'. No fighting him, be the smiling hostess for any formal gatherings, share his bed. And I agreed. For Danny.”

“Did you take any precautions against pregnancy?”

“The maid assigned to me, she got me this tea from the apothecary. Ginger and some kind of mint. I drank it twice a day. It was supposed to keep that from happening.”

“Ginger and Penny Royal mint.” The doctor nodded. “Common combination. Strong ginger is believed to prevent conception but penny royal is known to cause a miscarriage. Are you still drinking the tea.”

She shook her head. “He took it away when we got to Boston. Turns out he knew I what I was doing, but he said it was okay for a mistress but that a wife was supposed to have children with her husband. Told me I could have it back after we had a child, to give me a rest between pregnancies.”

“All right. Marriage is only about a month old, correct?” Charlie nodded. “Then I think we're dealing with one of three different possibilities here. This could be old, clotted blood from your hormones being out of balance and your cycle being off, it could be a miscarriage of a very early term pregnancy or it could be a combination of both. Either way I'm afraid the best treatment is to do an old fashioned D&C. Given the amount of both mental and physical trauma you've been through over the past few months I'd rather put you under for this. That will also allow me to check for any other injuries you may not have noticed because of the discomfort.”

Charlotte looked at the doctor, confused. “What is that?”

“A simple procedure, only takes about ten or fifteen minutes. I'm just going to open your cervix and clean out anything left in there. We don't want to take a chance of something going septic and killing you.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Don't worry. I've done this a few times before.”

“Nora?”

Nora lifted Charlie's hand and kissed her fingers briefly. “Don't worry. I'm gonna sit here with you until you're sound asleep, then I'm going to get your Mom so she can be here when you wake up.” Nora saw the needle go into Charlie's arm from the edge of her vision but kept her eyes on hers 

Charlie smiled. “He was mad, day before yesterday. I heard him from the library, something about Jason sneaking in rebels and freeing some prisoners. I hoped it was them.”

“Miles knew we couldn't go after you until we had them. We didn't leave Monroe anyone he could use against you. We're all accounted for.”

It was clear she was trying to keep from going under just yet. “He can't know about this.”

“About what, Sweetheart?”

“That I might have been pregnant. He wanted me to be. He's going... to be bad enough when he comes for me.” She lost the battle, her eyes closing and her breathing becoming slow and even.

Nora let go over Charlotte's hand to stroke her face. “We won't let him get you, Baby. You're never going to have to worry about Monroe again.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the big finale. I'm sure some will not care for it and some shippers will be overjoyed.
> 
> Remember, comments are my drug of choice.

She felt fuzzy, disconnected. She thought she was inside a tent, but she'd seen the Militia tents. They were white and resembled gossamer. This tent was a darker, canvas construction, more solid somehow, or at least it would be if her eyes would stay focused.

“Charlie?” 

She rolled her head, wondering why it felt so heavy. It took her a second to focus, but she finally made sense of the face in front of her. “Mom. You're okay.”

Rachel looked like she was about to cry. “Yeah, Baby, I'm okay.”

“I feel funny.”

“The doctor did a better examination after the procedure. You've got a couple of cracked ribs you didn't notice and you're pretty banged up from the fall. He gave you something to make you more comfortable. It's important that you breathe completely, even if it's a little sore. Otherwise you might come down with pneumonia.”

“Was I?”

Rachel stroked her hair. “Were you what?”

“Pregnant?”

“There's no way to tell, Charlie. You wouldn't have been far enough along for the baby to be visible, not with everything else.” Rachel couldn't seem to stop touching her. “I was there for the procedure. You had a great deal of build up because you hadn't been having a regular cycle. You were under so much stress, trying to be strong for all of us. You shouldn't have had to carry the load for everyone like that.”

Charlotte tried to wrap her mind around that as she looked around the tent. “Where's Danny?”

“He's in the medical tent, helping the doctors with the wounded that came back from the raid.”

“Miles?”

“He came back, too. He had some administrative matters to take care of. President Foster put him in charge of the troops she sent, so he has to work with her liaison. He'll be here as soon as he can.” Her mother stroked her brow gently. “You get some rest. You've had a rough time of it.”

The next time she woke up, Rachel was gone but a bedraggled Miles in desperate need of a shave was conked out in the chair next to her bed. “Miles?”

He woke with a jerk, hand automatically going for his sword hilt before he registered where he was. He let go of the hilt and smiled, getting up. “Hey, Darling. How are you feeling?”

“Fuzzy. Come here.” She motioned him closer and he stepped forward. “Closer.” He leaned down. She balled up her fist and tried to aim for his nose. Unfortunately she was still stoned and he had great reflexes. 

“Whoa, what's that for.”

“For walking across the whole damn republic and not telling me you're my father. I promised myself I'd punch you in the nose when I saw you, so stand still.”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, I probably deserve it, but you don't have to hit me. Danny already took care of that part.”

She frowned. “Danny?”

“Yeah, only he went for the diaphragm. Knocked the wind right out of me.”

She couldn't help but feel a bit proud of her little brother. “You deserved it.”

“I already said that.” 

“Did you get him?”

Miles' eyes turned sad. “No, he got away. His men were able to send our main force running and came up the same direction he sent Jeremy with you. Jason and I couldn't take them on alone so we had to run. We laid more than a few false trails to keep them chasing their tails. He'll eventually have to go back to Philadelphia and monitor things from there.”

Charlotte closed her eyes. “This is all my fault.”

“What? No! What would give you that idea?”

“I acted too much like you. Trying to get Mom to refuse to build the amplifier, to try and convince her that the three of us weren't as important as keeping the power out of Sebastian's hands. For standing up and daring Strausser to shoot me like I did. If I'd been some normal girl, begging for her life, even crying... maybe he wouldn't have noticed me.”

Miles felt like punching something, but that wouldn't help anything. He tried to be a gentle as he could be, conscious of the cracked ribs and the abundant number of bruises as he scooped her into his arms and held her close. He had hugged her as her uncle, but now that both sides knew the real connection between them it felt so much more important. “Have you seen yourself, Kid? A man would have to be blind not to notice you. You're acting like that was probably the difference between just having to deal with Bass and being passed around amongst his officers like a party favor.”

She gave a half-laugh and held him as tightly as her drugged and damaged state would allow. “It's not about you anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“There's a library that branches off from the study at the Boston house. Has a way to get in without going through there. I was in there looking for something to read when the riders came to tell Bass that Mom and Danny had been rescued. He was angry, ordered extra security, but his exact words were 'Miles will not be taking my wife from me'. It wasn't a show, he didn't even know I was there.”

“Charlie, that's what Bass does. He can make a woman do just about anything he wants. I know the guy and the notches on his bed post probably were already in the hundreds before I left.”

“I know that. I'm not caught up in some little girl fantasy.” She forced herself to breathe through the pain of her ribs a couple of times before speaking again. “I'm not saying I'm in love with him. I don't know if he can love anyone. I'm just saying that this isn't about you anymore. It's about... family. He wants one. He considered you his brother and until you orchestrated my rescue... I think he would have taken you back if you'd just come to Philadelphia and asked him to. Maybe he'd always wanted some permanent connection to the Mathesons. Or maybe he was just particularly horny and let his sex drive get away from him when it came to me. I don't know.”

Miles stroked her hair. He knew where this was going. “He's already looking for you. He's got men out everywhere.”

“Yeah, I figured that. I think we both know what has to happen here.”

“I just got you back, Charlotte.” His eyes were starting to sting with unshed tears.

“I know. And I'm more than a little proud that you're my father. Explains why Dad and I were always butting heads. Guess I'm too much like you.” She kissed the scratchy beard of his chin. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.” And he meant it. He'd do anything for his brave, remarkable, unusual Charlotte.

“I need you to make Mom go home. And she needs to take Danny with her.”

** Seven days later, Liberty Hall, Philadelphia **

“The riders found nothing?”

Baker shook his head. “The Rebels seem to be teaching the Peach Eaters all their best stealth tricks. Security on the Republic and Georgia border has been doubled in man power and patrols stepped up in frequency, so if they try to sneak her out through there we'll be more likely to catch them.”

“And no sign of Miles? He'd keep her with him. He'd keep her close.”

“No. He's never been the easiest guy to find when he decides to go to ground.”

Monroe looked many pins marking all the places they had been searching for Miles' camp. Their spies in Georgia had confirmed that President Foster had given him men and weapons. They had also gotten their hand on a document where Foster essentially stated that she did not consider his marriage to Charlotte to be legal. She called his wife a victim of kidnapping, extortion and rape and had equated her to a political prisoner. Any Georgian soldier who found the opportunity was encouraged to 'liberate' her from him.

His growl was animalistic as he struck the table with his closed fists. He felt at least one knuckle give way but the pain was almost negligible under his frustration. “You said she moved like she was injured. They couldn't have gotten her far. They would have had to take her to shelter somewhere.”

“We will continue searching. They are not going to get her out of the Republic. And her face is too readily known thanks to those photos, so there aren't many places they can seek help without her being recognized.” Baker finished the rest of his drink. “We'll get her back, Sir.”

Some sort of commotion was heard from the hallway, both men looked up as one of the guards outside open the door without knocking. Bass opened his mouth to demand an explanation... but Charlotte walked through the door.

She looked pale and dirt streaked her face. Her hair was a tangled, wild mess and her clothes looked like she hadn't changed them in days. She took both of them in as they looked at her, her eyes falling to the glasses. “I could use one of those, if you don't mind.”

She walked over to Bass' desk as she started to unbuckle the scabbard holding her sword. After she had it off, she set it down on the surface. Her eyes flicked back to Baker and the angry scar going down one cheek. “Dad's work?”

Jeremy arched a brow as he watched her undo the holster of her pistol and set it with the sword. “Yeah, it's his.”

“Better. You were too pretty before. Now you actually look like you can kick ass.” She winced as she bent down for her boot, her breath drawing in sharply. Bass' brow furrowed.

“What's wrong?”

“I got thrown from a horse, Bass. Apparently you can crack ribs that way.” She lifted her foot onto one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. “The doc said it'd be at least four more weeks before I can even breathe comfortably. Pretty sure the ride on horseback here didn't do me any favors.” She took out a boot knife and dropped it on the desk as well. Her eyes flicked to the grandfather clock. “For Heaven's sake, Bass, it's twelve-thirty in the morning! Let the man get some sleep.”

Sebastian's eyes continued to rove over her, hardly believing that she was standing here. He watched as she reached up under her hair and removed another knife. He almost laughed. It had taken Miles years to finally beat it into the men's heads that you should always check long hair when searching for weapons. Most didn't think about it.

“Jeremy, go home. We'll talk tomorrow.”

Baker gave the pile of weapons on the desk a skeptical gaze. “Are you sure, Sir?”

“Go home, Jeremy. I'm not here to make myself a widow. And you might be a dear and send someone out to tell the soldiers they can stop searching. I'm right here.”

“It's all right. Go on.” Sebastian got the meaning of her piling the hardware onto his desk. She was disarming herself. A sort of unofficial surrender. He reached for the decanter to pour some of the whiskey into a clean glass and refill his own drink. He put the crystal stopper back in the top and handed Charlotte her drink. “Why?”

“Because it occurred to me that with you tearing up the countryside looking for me there were a lot of men on both sides who were going to die. And for what? Me? One woman who just happened to catch the attention of a powerful man? I thought that a rather idiotic reason for a lot of young men never to go home again.” She took a drink from her glass, not showing the slightest problem with the liquor. “And because I keep my promises. I seem to recall making one that said something like 'and forsaking all others, will you keep yourself only unto him for as long as you both may live'. You may have used my mother's life to force that one out of me, but I did make it.”

She finished the rest of her drink and set the glass down. “I'm not as old as you or have as much life experience as you do, but I think using the bride's family as blackmail material to keep her in line is a pretty poor way to kick off a marriage, Bass.” She winced as she lowered herself into a chair. “So I helped you with that flaw in your character.”

Bass poured her another glass. “And how did you do that, Charlotte?” He offered her the glass and she accepted it. 

“By sending everyone you could use against me away. My father, my mother, my brother and those friends that I loved the most. Miles is taking them out of the Republic. If you really want me here, if all those search parties and spies are an indication that I'm still wanted here, with you, then let them leave. You don't need them anymore, Sebastian. I rode into this city without coercion or needing to be shackled and drug back into your house. I'm willing to see if the two of us can figure this out and make it work, make a proper go of this.”

He crouched down, one hand on her knee. His eyes searched her face for signs of deceit or hesitation. “You're coming back to me, of your own volition.” He watched her down the drink. Miles' skill at holding his liquor must be genetic. “Why? Your only reason can't be to stop the violence from the search.”

She sighed. “I don't really know myself, Bass. Do you want me to say I love you? I can't honestly say that. You never really gave me a chance to try. Do you know how afraid I was of you? How hard I had to keep myself in check because I was afraid that if I let my temper get away from me you might take it out on Mom or Danny? I can tell you I miss you. I can't even get a solid night sleep because I got so used to you being there that not having you there feels... wrong.”

Charlie let her free hand drift down, tracing the tendons of the hand he had on her knee. “I'm willing to give this an honest try, one without any threats or ultimatums hanging over my head. I don't know what will happen. I don't know if you'll get bored with me in a year and set me aside for some cute red head or if we'll end up raising half a dozen children together. But if we do this, you have to take all of me. My temper, my mouthiness and I am not going to censor my thoughts around you when we're alone.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Only when we're alone?”

She rolled her eyes. “I'll be a proper and supportive wife in front of your men. Don't worry, I'm not out to ruin your reputation.”

“And all you want from me is to let Miles and the rest of your family leave and not hunt them down?”

“Yes, because you don't need them anymore. I'm not going to run away. I'm not going to try and kill you in our sleep.”

“And if Miles comes back for you?”

“I'll tell him myself to turn around and walk back out.” She paused. “After I get a hug and a kiss. He is my father, after all.” She sighed and took his glass from him, downing it. “Sebastian, how much more can I tell you? I'm dirty, I'm tired and I think my clothes could stand on their own right now. I think I missed your bathtub almost as much as I missed sleeping with you. Please, let's call it a night and we can stat figuring out how we're going to make this work tomorrow.”

Bass almost laughed at that. The storm that had been tearing him apart inside when he'd seen Miles fighting Jeremy and no sign of Charlotte was calming, quieting. She was here, back where she belonged and she had come to him on her own. He hadn't had to have Jeremy or Tom drag her back to him. Hadn't had to hold a knife to a loved one's throat. She had walked into his office and disarmed, surrendering to him.

He stood up, offering her his hand. She went to stand up and he saw the pain in her face, heard the catch in her breathing. He did not hesitate as he bent to put an arm under her knees and another around her back to pick her up. “I can walk.”

“Indulge me.”

“You're going to carry me up all those stairs?”

“It will be quicker than watching you struggle for each step. Give me this, Charlotte. I've missed you as well.” She fell silent and let him have his way. He got her into their room and into the bath. He let her down and she sat down on the tub's rim so she could take off her boots as well as start the water. Bass reached up to one of the shelves and pulled down a bottle. “This isn't the most pleasant smelling stuff, but it helps with aches and pains.” 

“Love it already.” She got her boots off as he poured something green and smelling strongly of herbs into the bathwater. She got up to start stripping off her clothing. 

Bass recapped the bottle and set it back up onto the shelf, watching Charlotte. Her back was to him and as her shirt came off he drew in a sharp breath.

“Sorry, should have warned you. Miles said it looks horrid.”

“He wasn't exaggerating.” He moved to her to help. Her back was covered with bruises. Some of them were fading well, already green or yellow, a few already a pale brown, but there were large blotches where they still looked almost black, most noticeably around a couple of places that were probably her injured ribs. He unhooked her bra for her, sliding it off, then unfastened her pants and helped her get them down and off. He let her use him for balance to step into the still filling tub and perhaps hovered a bit too much as she sat down.

“I'm a lot tougher than I look, you know. I survived your goons more than once, didn't I?”

He smiled at that. “You look like someone has been beating you with a rifle stock. I should send for my doctor.”

She groaned. “Bass, if they haven't killed me in a week, then I'm still going to alive and breathing in the morning. I really don't want to deal with anyone tonight.”

He was about to argue, but realized he didn't really want anyone else here, either. “All right.” He picked up the pitcher next to the tub and filled it, pouring the water over her hair, repeating the process until the entire mass was soaked through before he lathered up enough soap to start washing it. She let him, giving herself over to his hands and let him take care of her. He was mindful of the bruises and worried over the obvious loss of weight in the short time they had been apart. His fingers remapped her soft skin and beautiful curves, like a wealthy man recovering his most precious possession after it had been stolen from him.

Once clean, he helped her up and wrapped her in the thick towels he always demanded for his personal use and carried her into the bedroom near the hearth. She let him hold her in his lap as he took a comb and gently worked out the snarls from her hair, then brushed it near the heat of the hearth until it once again glowed like the molten honey he loved to caress. Clean and dry, he placed her in their bed, not bothering to get one of her gowns for her. He wanted to lie there and feel all of her against him, nothing separating them from one another. 

He watched her watching him as he stripped out of the rest of his clothes, her eyes heavy lidded as she studied him. He caught a little smile on her lips as she let her eyes roam over him. The tip of her tongue came out to moisten her lips, as though he had transformed into some rich dessert she was thinking about attacking. He reminded himself she was injured and sore and crushed his hunger for her fiercely. Later, after his doctor checked her over and made certain whatever hack Georgia had look after her hadn't missed anything.

Finally naked, he climbed into the bed next to her, pressing close so he could feel her warmth all along his body. It was finally starting to feel real, her being back here with him, familiar curves melding against his battle hardened frame as though carved to fit with him perfectly. 

Soft lips trailed over his jaw until they found his mouth. Charlotte kissed him, slow and gentle, using the same tricks and methods he'd used on her to coax his lips apart and delve inside. He needed little in the way of coaxing, returning the kiss gladly. The room was silent save for the crackle of the hearth and the sounds of their breathing. He was glad they had decided to keep this night for just the two of them. This was something that couldn't be shared.

Charlie's hands roamed over him, relearning him as he had done her. Her touch was teasing and gentle, and he did nothing to stop her until she reached down to wrap her fingers around his cock, exploring the hardening silk there. “No, Charlotte, you're injuries.”

He heard her chuckle in the darkness, felt the sharp nip of those teeth he had missed as they bit at his ear. “Then you'll have to remind yourself to be gentle with me. I know you can be.”

She was initiating it. The one thing she had always denied him, even after he had caught her having wet dreams about him, was seeking him out for sex. Now she was offering it to him and the idea of it drew a growl from deep inside him. She was tearing down the last wall between them, leaving herself open and vulnerable and giving him the chance to prove that she could trust him with herself.

So he was gentle. He was gentle when he carefully pushed her back onto her back. He was gentle as he feasted between her slender, strong legs to bring her to her first orgasm, leaving her drench and ready. He was gentle as he rose up over her and guided himself into her heat, closing his eyes as he savored the slow invasion until he was completely sheathed within her. He was gentle with slow and languorous strokes, laughing and holding her still when her impatience had her biting at him gain, his little wild cat wanting things harder and faster than what was really good for her right now. And he was gentle when her body finally clamped down around him in a second orgasm, this time letting himself join her and spilling himself deep inside her body. 

That was when it finally clicked for him. This wasn't another cruel dream where he woke up to find he'd stained the sheets like silly boy just going into puberty. He wouldn't wake this time to find that Charlotte was still gone. She was here, and she'd be here in the morning when he woke. She'd be here the next day and the day after that. 

Get bored with her and set her aside for some red head. He smiled at that. Silly Charlie. Though the idea of raising five or six kids with her did appeal to him. More now that she'd laid all the cards on the table than before. She was a Matheson, through and through, and now she was his Matheson, given freely.

And if Miles came back for his daughter one day, he'd try to play nice. Offer him the chance to see her. To see his grandchild if they had one by then. But if his brother tried to take Charlotte away from him again, he would finally have to kill the man. He hoped it didn't come to that. He knew it would cause a rift if the fragile agreement they now had.

Charlie had already succumbed to sleep, her body curled next to his, one leg thrown over his as though she was also afraid he would vanish come sunrise. He trailed his fingers lightly over her skin and kissed her hair. “Welcome home, Charlotte.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke. “Welcome home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End. I hope you enjoyed my little story.


End file.
